Two Minds, One Heart
by Lady Artimes Blaine
Summary: She promised him one night not a lifetime, but life has other plans. Two minds so different yet so similar are brought together by the one thing they never expected. The question is: do they have what it takes to put aside their pasts in order to build their future or will the darkness take the one thing they hold most dear? *Story that follows One Night and One Morning.*
1. Chapter 1: Secrets and Dragons

Lady A: Hello ladies and gents and welcome to Two Minds, One Heart. I know all of you have been dying for me to post this story. If you have not read One Night and One Morning then go read them now. Otherwise you will not fully understand what is happening.

John: Where exactly does this story take place in the series?

Sherlock: I should think it was obvious, John.

John: It's not obvious to me.

Sherlock: Therein lays the problem, John. You see but you do not observe.

Lady A: Settle down, boys. The beginning of this story is interwoven with Season 3 Episode 3: His Last Vow. Also apologies, but I am skirting the whole issue with the resurgence of Moriarty. I don't want to muck it up because the series hasn't returned yet for me to know the answer and I refuse postulate on the outcome of that particular case.

Disclaimer: I do not own Sherlock.

* * *

Chapter One: Secrets and Dragons

* * *

Two women sat at the dining room table in their spacious one story house. The brunette was chattering away about the latest gossip of her highly intricate social network, her forest green eyes aglow with excitement and happiness. The second woman with crimson red hair and eyes of royal blue sat adjacent to her talkative friend; she was reading the newspaper in her right hand and sipping periodically from the tea cup in her left.

"Are you listening to me, Artimes?" The brunette asked pushing the paper down to see her friend's face.

Artimes gave her flat mate an amused look. She was fortunate that she had long ago mastered the art of multitasking. Otherwise she would have one pissed off best friend.

"Yes, Lily, I am listening. You just finished telling me about the recent wedding of Doctor Watson and Mary Morsten." She answered smirking slightly at her friend's playful scowl.

She had not yet told her best mate that she had driven up to that area on their wedding day nor had she revealed her very intimate interlude with the consultant detective. A week has passed and she was still sore. She was grateful that he didn't know that little fact. Men were so easy when it came to inflating their overly large egos.

"Yeah okay, Miss Smarty Pants. Try this on for size. Rumor has it that Doctor Watson's best man, the detective Sherlock Holmes, met a woman that night." Lily informed.

Artimes's mind froze at that statement. To her knowledge, she was the only woman Sherlock had met that night and she was absolutely certain that they had been alone on that street. Were her skills slipping from disuse? If that was the case, then that was extremely dangerous.

"He has apparently had some sort of tryst with her. No one knows the specific details, but everyone agrees that it was intimate." Lily continued not noticing how her friend's face had become like an emotionally blank slate.

Artimes raised the newspaper again, so she could block Lily's view of her face. Her mind was reeling at the information, but she was going to verify it at the very least.

"Does this mysterious woman have a name?" She asked blandly.

She needed to know just how accurate their information was so she could ascertain who was tailing her or the detective. Once discovered, they would be dealt with.

"Yep. Her name is Janine. She was one of the bridesmaids at the wedding." Lily answered nibbling on her nearly forgotten toast.

The red head digested that information and a part of her wanted to sigh in relief, but another part of her was worried that Sherlock had gotten over her too quickly. She knew that she didn't have the right to be jealous. He wasn't her boyfriend, husband, or significant other, but alas she was jealous. She was also hurt that he didn't treat that night with the same reverence and respect she did.

While her heart continued to ache at the implications of the rumor, her mind was going along a different path. Janine, why did that name sound so familiar to her?

"What does this Janine do for a living?" Artimes asked setting her paper down and taking a sip of her tea.

"Um…I think she is a PA or something for one of those newspaper bigwigs. Why?" Lily answered curious.

No, she couldn't be that Janine, could she? Why would Sherlock become involved with her of all people unless…he was going after _him_. It couldn't be a coincidence. It was simply too much like a calculated maneuver for it to be mere chance.

Artimes set down her tea cup and grabbed her mobile. She needed to know that bastard's latest acquisition, because Sherlock would not have become involved with _him_ unless someone asked him to.

She pulled up her text conversation with her elder brother, Trinity. If anyone had the answer to this little conundrum then it was her brother.

'Trin, what's Mag's latest toy?'

Within seconds, her brother responded.

'Lady Smallwood. Why?'

'What kind of person is she?'

'To put it simply, she is a proper British woman with a proper British backbone. Again why?'

'So that's why.'

'Are you involved with him?'

'Indirectly. Thanks for the info.'

'Anytime and be careful.'

'Always.'

"So?" Lily demanded annoyed that her crimson haired friend was ignoring her.

Artimes set her phone down on top of the newspaper.

"I was checking on a theory. As it turns out, I was right." The red head answered directing her full attention to the brunette.

"About?" Lily prompted annoyance morphing into eagerness.

It never ceased to amaze Artimes how her flat mate would jump at any opportunity to witness her intellect. Lily loved it when Artimes solved puzzles whether large or small, no matter their complexity or simplicity. Personally, the red head believed that her best friend simply wanted to figure out how Artimes's mind worked.

"Janine is the personal assistant of one Charles Augustus Magnussen, by far the worst man you could possibly have the misfortune to meet." Artimes started.

The brunette frowned at her friend's wording.

"Why's that? I thought he was the owner of a newspaper company. You make him sound like Hitler." Lily interjected confusion etched on her face.

"Magnussen is an extremely dangerous man who preys on those who are different and uses their secrets against them." The red head answered.

"You mean blackmail?! Why would he do that? What purpose does it serve?" Lily asked angrily, her green eyes blazing.

"Magnussen is a business man, Lily. He acquires assets which includes people. He uses them to get what he wants by finding their pressure points. As of now, he is the Napoleon of the Modern Age." Artimes explained resting her chin on her intertwined hands.

"But what does Janine have to do with this?" Lily asked settling down a bit when she decided that it was not worth the effort to stay angry.

The red head fought to keep the smile off her face and ended up with a small smirk. Her best mate had a knack for directing the flow of a conversation to where she wanted it to go. It was this particular skill that charmed many a man out of their pants and into the brunette's bed.

"Janine is the key that Sherlock needs to get closer to Magnussen." She stated bluntly, knowing her friend would immediately jump to conclusions.

"Would he really use her like that?" Lily asked in disbelief.

To get what he needed to solve the case or protect what was his, Sherlock Holmes would go to whatever lengths were necessary to see it done…which included facing down a Modern day dragon in the form of Magnussen.

"Yes, because he is working a case." She stated simply while sipping her tea.

It had apparently gone cold at some point, but she didn't really mind all that much.

"Why would he go after Magnussen?" The brunette asked trying to wrap her head around what Artimes was telling her.

There were many reasons for the detective to pursue the newspaper owner. The most obvious reason was because Lady Smallwood had asked him to become involved. The less known reason and probably the most overlooked was the dark and turbulent past of Doctor Watson's wife. She was very good at covering her tracks, but Artimes was an expert at finding what people wanted to hide.

She knew that Mary Watson was a former intelligence agent for the CIA and had a very long list of successful missions. If Magnussen were to learn that Mary was a former assassin then it would get John involved and in turn, Sherlock. She hated the concept of a slippery slope, but it was an adequate description for the very bleak possibility.

Sherlock wass fiercely protective of those he cared for and he would not stand idly by and allow Magnussen to manipulate his friends like puppets. Her jaw clenched for a moment. She knew what he would do if he was forced into that situation. It was the same thing she would do if that bastard threatened Lily.

"The reason is obvious given recent information. Magnussen's most recent endeavor is his attempt to blackmail Lady Smallwood into submission; however, it would seem her ladyship is a very stubborn woman and refuses to give up without a fight. She has enlisted Sherlock's help to contend with the problem." Artimes explained sipping her tea again.

Lily's face scrunched up in concentration then fell into an almost defeated confusion.

"But why Janine?" The brunette asked still very upset about the woman being used in such a manner.

The red head inwardly face palmed. She understood the detective's logic and that it was the most efficient path he could take. She also understood where Lily was coming from and the idea didn't sit well with her either, but no one said life was fair. No matter how the events played out, Janine would still get the short end of the stick.

"Magnussen's office has a great deal of security. The only way to get in is by the lift which requires a personalized key card. If the incorrect key card is used, security is alerted and the offender will be taken away. Now if the card registers as corrupted, a video link is activated so proper identification can be made. This function is carried out by Magnussen's personal assistant, Janine." Artimes explained.

Lily's eyes lit up with something akin to a Eureka moment.

"Sherlock is banking on his relationship with Janine to get him into Magnussen's office!" The brunette exclaimed.

The red head nodded.

"Human error, precisely." She concurred.

Lily's shoulders slumped.

"It's still not right…using her like that." She commented.

"Sherlock Holmes is a high functioning sociopath, Lily, who solves crimes as an alternative to getting high. To put it simply, he is the slayer of dragons in this Modern Age and sometimes there are casualties." Artimes replied setting her now empty tea cup back in its saucer.

"Supposed you're right. It must be hard for him though…to make those kinds of decisions." The brunette commented.

"He makes the decisions that mortals dare not to. On his shoulders alone, rests the fates of the countless souls lost in the sea of darkness and corruption. Who would have courage if not him? Who would dare enter the dragon's den if not him?" The red head replied her eyes becoming distant.

Lily noticed the change in her friend and she knew what it meant. If anyone could understand what it felt like to make impossible choices then it was her Artimes. Her past was filled with such darkness and she hated it when her best friend was forced to relive those days in her mind.

Fortunately, she knew how to bring her out of it. Lily flashed her best mate a huge and silly grin and it held the same impact as it did when they first met. Artimes's eyes cleared and redirected her gaze towards the brunette. Lily stood up from the table.

"I'm gonna grab a shower and then we are going shopping." She stated happily.

Artimes raised an eyebrow.

"Again? We just went shopping two days ago." The red head commented.

"Yes again. You need more sunlight, Miss Night Owl." The brunette stated with a huff.

Artimes smirked slightly before responding.

"Hoot hoot." The red head replied while blinking owlishly at her flat mate.

Lily sent her a playful glare and sauntered out of the room. Once certain her friend was gone, Artimes sighed heavily. She was relieved that Sherlock's involvement with Janine was strictly professional and was nothing personal. Still, she worried for him. Magnussen was dangerous…perhaps even too dangerous for the consultant detective.

Artimes knew she needed to keep tabs on this case for if she didn't, something terrible might happen. If she had to get involved then she would do so indirectly. There was a long list of people who owed her a plethora of favors and for Sherlock, she'd call in every single one to keep him safe.

A weak smile appeared on her face briefly. Sherlock Holmes was slowly becoming an obsessive interest of hers and it made her feel a little bit like a stalker…how domestic.

* * *

Lady A: There you have it! Chapter 1: Secrets and Dragons is complete!

John: We weren't even in the chapter.

Lady A: I mentioned you.

John: Yeah, in passing.

Sherlock: It's not important, John.

John: Well of course it is not important to you! She mentioned you practically through the whole damn thing!

Lady A: *sighs* In all fairness, John, you will sorta be in the next chapter.

John: Really? *perks up*

Lady A: Yes, really…maybe. Depends on how long the chapter runs. It might just be a long chapter.

Sherlock: This is getting us nowhere. For all those reading this, leave a review and tell me how brilliant I am.

John: More like how much of a drama queen he is.

Lady A: *snickers*


	2. Chapter 2: Drinks, Drugs, Sex and Murder

Lady A: Hey everybody! Welcome to Chapter 2 of Two Minds, One Heart. To be quite honest, I don't really have much to say except for the distinct lack of reviews. *pouts* Oh well. *sighs*

Sherlock: No one commented on my brilliance…how disappointing.

John: I'm starting to believe that you are narcissistic.

Lady A: No, he is a high functioning sociopath.

John: *scowls*

Sherlock: *chuckles*

Lady A: Anyways, on with the show!

Disclaimer: I do not own Sherlock.

* * *

Chapter Two: Drinks, Drugs, Sex and Murder

* * *

Three weeks had passed since Artimes and Lily had discussed Sherlock's involvement with Magnussen. The crimson haired woman was currently standing in front of the open refrigerator, staring blankly at its contents. With an irritated and slightly frustrated growl, she slammed the door shut.

"May I ask what the terrible atrocity was that the dastardly kitchen appliance committed to invoke your wrath?" Lily asked walking into the kitchen with a small smile on her face.

Artimes glanced towards the brunette, her blue eyes shining with annoyance.

"I'm hungry." She answered.

Lily raised an eyebrow at her friend's simplistic answer.

"There's a fridge full of food." The brunette replied stating the obvious.

The red head scowled slightly at said appliance.

"I am aware." Artimes stated turning away from the refrigerator.

She walked out of the kitchen with Lily close on her heels.

"Where are you going?" The brunette asked confused by her friend's mood.

"_We_ are going out to eat." The red head informed heading towards the front door.

"Okay, so what do you want to eat that isn't in our fridge?" Lily asked as Artimes slipped into her blood red leather jacket.

"Chinese." The red head answered sliding on her boots with a practice ease.

The brunette's eyebrows shot up and disappeared into her bangs, her mouth slightly open in disbelief.

"You hate Chinese. Well not the Lo Mein, but you hate everything else." She commented slipping into her own jacket and shoes.

"Not today." Artimes answered simply, grabbing her keys.

The pair finished their preparations and headed out the door.

* * *

The duo was sitting at one of the back tables of the local Chinese restaurant, an assortment of dishes splayed across its surface. There was Chicken Fried Rice, egg rolls, Sweet n' Sour chicken, Lo Mein, and several fried, battered, or boiled dishes.

"Are you sure you're feeling alright, Artimes? You hate most of the stuff you ordered with a passion." Lily commented eying several of the dishes with a modicum of distaste or disbelief.

Artimes had amused gleam in her eyes as she shrugged in a nonchalant way. She continued her meal, ignoring her flat mate's ever changing facial expressions. Finally, the brunette turned her attention from the red head and onto the newspaper she had found on the table behind theirs.

"Oh my God!" Lily exclaimed.

"What?" The red head asked glancing up immediately.

Lily turned the paper around and pointed to a specific article on the page.

"Sherlock was found by Doctor Watson at a crack house and he was higher than a kite!" Lily answered clearly astonished by the detective's behavior.

"Hn, that was clever." Artimes commented smirking slightly.

Lily's jaw dropped.

"How is that clever?!" Lily replied shocked by her friend's easy manner.

The crimson haired woman gave her flat mate a knowing look.

"Do you remember what I said about pressure points?" She asked.

"Of course I do, but what does that hav…wait, you mean that he purposely got himself high because of the dragon?" Lily countered trying to understand what her best friend was implying.

It was unwise to even mention Magnussen's name…even in passing. Lily and Artimes came to the agreement that they would refer to the newspaper owner as '_the dragon_' while they were in public.

"That is correct. If the dragon believes that Sherlock is a junkie then it will diminish his level of threat and give way to the possibility that he can be easily manipulated. This allows Sherlock the opportunity to catch the dragon off guard." Artimes explained.

The brunette rubbed her temples to stave off the headache that was trying to form.

"This case is going to give me a migraine from hell, isn't it?" She asked sourly.

The red head gave her best mate a cheeky grin.

"Of that, I have no doubt." Artimes answered an evil glint in her eyes.

Lily groaned and the red head's grin widened.

* * *

The pair returned home and was settling down to watch a movie when Lily's phone buzzed. The brunette whipped it out like the professional socialite she was and scrolled through the contents swiftly. Artimes began to worry when her friend's face paled and her eyes grew wide in shock.

"Lily? Lily, what's wrong?" Artimes asked.

The brunette looked up at her friend, her forest green eyes shimmering with unshed tears. The sight caused the red head's heart beat to quicken and she grabbed the phone. She read through the message several times before standing abruptly.

"I have to make a phone call." Artimes stated tossing the phone back to her flat mate and walking towards her bedroom.

"He's precious to you." Lily stated rather than asked.

The crimson haired woman paused for a moment.

"Yes." She replied her voice barely above a whisper.

* * *

Artimes entered her bedroom and snatched up her phone from the dresser. Time was of the essence and Sherlock's life was in the balance. She dialed the number of an old colleague turned medical man. He was the number one surgeon in the country and he owed her several favors.

"Doctor Julian Valdez." He stated when he answered the phone.

"Hello Julian." She replied.

There was a pregnant pause before he responded.

"What do you need?" He asked his tone determined and serious.

"St. Bart's Hospital, London. Patient: Sherlock Holmes. Injury: gunshot wound, close range with possibly silencer, upper chest area. Local doctors are unable to remove the bullet. Heart has stopped once already. Go." She ordered before hanging up.

She tossed her phone on her bed as she fought to keep the tears at bay. Her stomach was in knots and she felt extremely nauseous. After several minutes and a few deep breaths, her eyes dried, but the queasiness did not subside. Within moments, she was hunched over her bathroom toilet, emptying her stomach of its Chinese contents.

* * *

At St. Bart's Hospital, Doctor John Watson paced back and forth in the waiting room. His emotions were scattered, thinking was borderline impossible, and he was praying a never-ending silent prayer to God that he would not lose his best friend; this time for real. His wife, Mary, was sitting in a chair nearby.

A middle aged man with sandy brown hair and hazel eyes walked into the room, his white lab coat billowing out slightly around him.

"Dr. Watson, Mrs. Watson." He said gaining the attention of both occupants instantly.

"Yes?" John asked walking over to the doctor.

Mary joined him after a moment.

"My name is Doctor Julian Valdez, a surgical specialist. We have operated on Mr. Holmes and managed to remove the bullet successfully. So long as he doesn't do anything too strenuous in the next few days, he'll make a full recovery." The doctor informed.

John let out a breathy sigh of relief and shook Dr. Valdez's hand in gratitude.

"Thank you." The army doctored said.

"Your friend is very lucky." Valdez commented.

"Why's that?" Mary asked her eyes narrowing slightly.

"I received a call from an old associate of mine. I was informed of Mr. Holmes' condition and was asked to conduct the operation." The doctor answered.

"To be honest, I don't care how it happened. I'm just glad that it did." John replied.

The doctor nodded and left the couple to their own devices.

* * *

A few days had passed and Sherlock had pulled an absolutely ridiculous stunt by disappearing from the hospital for several hours. He was found at Baker Street with the Watson's. The paramedics took him back to the hospital and the detective was now on the road to recovery.

Artimes was currently sitting in the center of the couch in the living room. Lily was sitting on the floor on the opposite side of the low table in front of the couch. The red head had come to the decision that her best friend should know what happened between herself and the consultant detective. Given her recent behavior, the discussion was unavoidable and long overdue.

"Lily, I need to tell you something." Artimes started trying to find the right words to explain the situation.

"You slept with Sherlock." The brunette stated without batting an eye.

The red head stared at her flat mate, her eyes wide with shock. How had she known?

"It was the day you had returned home well after the sun rose. The day that just so happens to coincide with the Watsons' wedding. I'm guessing he must have left early and ran into you shortly after." Lily explained.

"How?" Artimes asked unable to fully get over her surprise.

"Your eyes. They were more open and expressive than I had ever seen before. Your eyes were so calm and your entire being was giving off a sense of wholeness and completion. At that time I didn't know who, but I was quite certain that you were no longer a virgin." Lily answered.

Artimes had the decency to blush at that simple observation which brought a playful smirk to the brunette's face and a knowing look in her eyes.

"When you started expressing a more active interest in Sherlock Holmes, I knew that he was the one you had given your precious gift to. It was for that reason that I asked everyone in my social network to keep an ear out for anything related to him. I knew I had to do my best to help you protect the man that had become precious to you. After All, that is what a best friend is for, right?" Lily continued giving her crimson haired friend a warm and understanding smile.

Artimes's royal blue eyes shimmered as they began to fill with tears. She did not deserve the friendship that Lily so readily offered. Moving faster than the average human, she was off the couch and by her friend. She wrapped her arms around the brunette and buried her face into the woman's shoulder as the tears streamed down her face.

"Thank you…for everything." Artimes whispered.

Lily returned her friend's embrace and rubbed her back soothingly.

"I will always be there for you, no matter what." The brunette replied.

* * *

That night Lily and Artimes went to celebrate their wild and crazy friendship. The brunette had insisted on going to the pub, to which the red head had responded with a simple eye roll. She loathed going to any type of drinking establishment because too many idiotic, drunken males would make fools of themselves by attempting to flirt with her.

Several bar brawls had occurred because the stupid morons would start fighting over her which usually ended with either the women leaving to avoid the hassle of the situation or Artimes dragging them outside to kick their asses without damaging any of the pub's property.

The moment they had entered the pub that evening, the red head was hit by a wave of nausea. The place reeked of booze, sweat, and burnt pizza. Lily guided her over to a pair of empty bar stools and they sat down.

"What can I get you lovely ladies?" The barkeep asked with a seductive smile.

Artimes resisted the urge to roll her eyes.

"Two drafts please." Lily ordered.

"Make mine a water over the rocks." Artimes amended.

The red head simply felt nauseous to consume any alcohol at the moment. The barkeep left to get their drinks. The brunette gave her a worried look.

"I don't feel like drinking tonight." The red head stated answering Lily's unspoken question.

Before Lily could press her on it, the barkeep returned and set their drinks in front of them. He sent the brunette a suggestive wink before attending to his other customers.

* * *

An hour and a half passed without incident, but alas all good things must come to an end. The male that Lily had been conversing with for the last twenty minutes was becoming too frisky too quickly. When he grabbed the brunette's bottom roughly, Artimes snatched his hand away, her hand wrapped around his wrist tightly.

"You will not touch her." The red head stated her tone cold and deadly.

Lily took that as her cue to move behind her angry friend and let her handle the idiot.

"Oh, you want a piece of this, love?" The drunken male asked reaching towards Artimes's chest.

A cold fury burned in the red head's eyes, their royal blue depths practically glowing from the intensity. She applied great pressure to the man's wrist result in a very audible crack as his wrist snapped in two. The drunken male howled in pain and staggered away, holding his broken wrist to his chest.

"Don't touch me!" Lily snapped drawing the red head's attention immediately behind her.

Artimes was about to kill the male who had the audacity to hold Lily against her will, but she didn't have to. A man with short, dark blond hair and green eyes knocked the bastard out cold with one punch to the face.

"Unless you want to find yourself in a cell at Scotland Yard, I suggest you scuttle and take your idiotic friends with you." The newcomer warned while flashing a badge at the remaining morons and motioning to the unconscious man and the one with the broken wrist.

Several people left, taking the injured male and the fallen fool with them. The newcomer turned his attention to the two women.

"Sorry for butting, but I wanted to have a drink in peace." The blond stated giving them a warm smile.

Artimes smirked slightly as she crossed her arms in front of her chest and Lily giggled.

"Artimes Blaine. My best mate, Lily Malderan." The red head introduced nodding towards the brunette.

"Detective Inspector Greg Lestrade, but please, call me Greg. I'm off duty." Greg replied.

Lily giggled again.

"A detective is never off duty." Lily stated glancing at her friend for a moment.

Artimes blushed slightly at the knowing look in her friend's eyes. Lily's statement had a double meaning which was apparently lost on the inspector. The trio sat at a nearby table and struck up a conversation. The three chatted away for over two and a half hours. The inspector was remarkably easy to get along with and he made for excellent company.

During the course of their time together, Artimes noticed that Lily was generally interested in Greg and it seemed the feeling was mutual from the detective inspector. The red head was very certain that something would blossom between the two and it would definitely be a relationship of the more permanent variety, whether that be friendship or something more. Only time would tell.

* * *

Lady A: Chapter 2: Drinks, Drugs, Sex and Murder is complete! Quite a bit happened in this chapter and there are some hints too.

Sherlock: Indeed there are. Artimes is…*has duct tape plastered over his mouth*

Lady A: Tsk tsk, Sherlock. No spoiling the plot.

John: I really was in this chapter.

Lady A: I told you that you would be.

John: Yes you did. Thank you. Now readers, leave lots of reviews and make our authoress happy.

Lady A: Coming Soon: Chapter 3: A Sociopathic Christmas. *snickers*


	3. Chapter 3: A Sociopathic Christmas

Lady A: *dark chuckle* I have returned and I have brought the long awaited Chapter 3 with me. I will warn you now, this is a long chapter. I had the option to split it into two, but refrained. This chapter will reveal what some of you might have entertained the notion of or you'll be face palming about half way through the chapter. I'll accept any reaction because it will either be a great shock or an 'ah, the pieces have all fallen into place' moment.

Sherlock: I already know the answer.

Lady A: Not in the actual story, you don't.

Sherlock: But I do know. Artimes is…

Lady A: *slams down on Sherlock, making him face plant then sits on him* No spoilers, you pesky psychopath!

Sherlock: *mumbles against the ground* High functioning sociopath.

Lady A: Anyways, on with the show!

Disclaimer: I do not own Sherlock!

* * *

Chapter Three: A Sociopathic Christmas

* * *

In the past two and half weeks, Lily became fast friends with Detective Inspector Lestrade. Artimes had been more reserved in her dealings with the blond, but that soon changed when she learned of his involvement with Sherlock Holmes. Apparently, the inspector had been friends with the consultant detective for years.

Greg commonly took the ladies out to lunch or dinner or just liked showing up at random moments to invite them somewhere. The trio was currently sitting in an Italian restaurant. The inspector and her flat mate were drinking wine while Artimes, herself, was drinking ice water.

Lily was slightly worried about the red head's recent aversion to alcohol and she hadn't smoked a cigarette in months. Artimes has been very tired as of late and has occasionally fallen asleep while doing whatever task she was trying to complete. It wasn't often, but it was still worrisome. Also the red head had taken to eating the oddest things and even shying away from some of her most favorite foods.

Currently, Artimes was sitting with her eyes closed and was pinching the bridge of her nose.

"Hey Artz, you alright?" Greg asked giving the crimson haired woman a worried look.

She opened her eyes, their royal blue depths slightly dull.

"I'm fine, just a headache." She answered tiredly.

It was clear that the red head was not feeling well.

"Do you want to go home?" Lily asked also worried.

The red head's eyes narrowed as they flashed in anger. She didn't appreciate being treated like some sort of invalid.

"We came here to eat, did we not? Then let us do so." She snapped in an icy tone.

Add mood swings to the growing list of unusual behavior that the red head was exhibiting. Instead of backing down as any sane person would, Lily rose to the challenge as she has always done.

"No, we are going home." The brunette stated rising to her feet.

Greg called for the check and paid it while the situation continued to build. Lily's statement ignited a cold fury in the red head's eyes. Artimes's control over her stronger emotions was beginning to slip and that meant bad news for anyone near her.

"Lily…" Artimes bit out as she rose to her feet.

Before the red head could say more, her world spun and her eyes drooped. She fell backwards, narrowly missing the table, but was quickly caught from behind by the detective inspector. With a strength that only men seemed to possess, he lifted her into his arms, her head lying on his right shoulder. Without another word, the trio left the restaurant and the countless eyes staring after them.

Artimes slipped in and out of consciousness on the drive home. She was only vaguely aware of when Greg carried her through the house and too her bedroom. Her jacket and shows were removed and she was tucked into bed, probably by Lily. The red head tried to remain awake, quickly lost the battle and succumbed to the peaceful darkness of sleep.

* * *

The next morning, Artimes was in a much better mood and was currently sitting at the island in their kitchen. She was demolishing the contents of a carton and a jar. Lily joined her and set seven boxes down the island. The red head paused in her eating and perused the boxes briefly. She looked up at her best friend in mild disbelief.

"No." Artimes stated.

"Yes." Lily countered.

"I will not." The red head replied.

"You will." The brunette countered.

"No." The red head replied firmly, disbelief written all over her face.

"Look at what you're eating and make a deduction." Lily stated the challenge shining clearly in her eyes.

Artimes glanced down at the half eaten carton of cookies n' cream ice cream and the medium sized, mostly empty, jar of sweet gherkins. She glanced at the boxes again then at her food of choice, pickles and ice cream. No, there was no way she could be pregnant. She had only slept with one man for one night and if she was indeed pregnant, as Lily believed her to be, then she was carrying Sherlock's child.

Artimes was not emotionally prepared for this predicament. She did not know what it meant to be a mother for she did not know her own. She lacked the only viable source which was readily available to countless other women, her mother. The only thing she knew about her mother from personal experience was that she was the spitting image of her, same hair and same eyes. Her mother had died giving birth to her.

Her jaw clenched. No, she emphatically refused to believe she was pregnant. She couldn't handle something that right now and maybe not ever. She looked back up at her flat mate, her eyes as hard as stone.

"No." She stated in a tone that left no room for argument.

"Just pee on the damn strips!" Lily yelled slamming her hands down on the island.

Artimes stared at her best friend in shock. The brunette had never challenged her, never, not once. Sure, they had their arguments that were laced with irritation, aggravation, or full blown annoyance, but never in all the time they had known each other, did her flat mate ever yell at her in such a manner.

It was clear that Lily would not budge on this matter. There could be no compromise for her best friend felt so strongly about this, that such a notion was impossible. She decided that she would prove Lily wrong and they could put this entire incident behind them.

She rose silently from her seat, grabbed the pregnancy tests, and went to the bathroom. The brunette had gotten seven of these infernal contraptions so that there would be absolutely no doubt about the results. Sometimes, the brunette knew Artimes's mind better than she thought.

* * *

Artimes set the strips in a straight line across the bathroom counter and began the ridiculous wait for their verdict. She paced a bit, her mind trying to sort out what she would do if she was indeed pregnant.

She would need to inform Sherlock of the pregnancy. He was the father of the child in question after all and he had the right to know. At the same time, it presented a major problem, several in fact. She had said one night, but with a child in the mix, it would force her to go back on her word. She was a woman of honor and the idea breaking a promise of this nature did not sit well with her.

The second problem was the fact that Sherlock was currently in the hospital recovering from a gunshot wound in the chest. Artimes silently thanked her best mate for keeping such close tabs on the detective. Without her, Sherlock would have surely died. He did not need the stress of the red head's resurgence into his life and the chaos that a pregnancy would bring.

The third problem and the most dangerous one at that was Magnussen. Sherlock would not rest until he brought that bastard down and God knew how their final show down would take place. She had no doubt that it would volatile, chaotic, and dangerous in the extreme. The distraction of his growing child could prove fatal in that situation, clouding his judgment.

The fourth problem was that if Sherlock took down Magnussen, then another would be seeking to destroy the consultant detective. They would target those close to him and their best target would be the detective's child.

She wasn't overly concerned with this particular problem because she was more than adequate to her protect her baby, given the skills she developed during her younger years. Then there was Trinity, her elder brother. He, like her, was highly trained and he would not hesitate to remove someone who tried to hurt his family.

The next of her child's protectors would be her best mate, Lily. She was not physically strong but she had an incredibly sharp mind. She would not only be her child's protector but the godmother of her baby as well and Lily would gut anyone who would dare to harm him.

The list protectors did not end with her flat mate. Oh no, given the recent friendship developed between the girls and Detective Inspector Greg Lestrade, he was also amongst her child's defenders. He may not be a genius, but he was a very stubborn man when it came to protecting his friends.

All of it was a mute point anyways. She was not pregnant. She would never become pregnant because she would never sleep with anyone else besides. All fell short of the consultant detective. She would take an oath of celibacy to make certain no man ever touched her again.

With that mindset and a deep breath, she turned her attention to the pregnancy tests. She looked at each on carefully. After each one, her mind began to slow down and all thoughts ceased when she saw the last test. She dropped the last strip as her knees gave out. Her hands gripped the counter, her knuckles turning white from her grip. The tests had confirmed it. She was pregnant…and she wasn't ready.

* * *

Lily tapped on the bathroom door, worried when all that answered was silence.

"Artimes?" She called opening the door.

Lily's eyes widened in shock at the sight before her. Artimes was on her knees, her hands gripping the bathroom counter for dear life, her breathing was rapid and shallow, and her eyes wide; though she couldn't tell exactly what the red head was feeling at the moment. One glance at the strips told the brunette what she already suspected to be true.

She knelt down next to her friend and tried to pry the red head's hands from the counter. After a few grunts and groans, she succeeded but that only seemed to make her flat mate worse. She took a moment to fully analyze the emotions swirling in her friend's eyes. Lily swore inwardly when she realized that Artimes was in a full blown panic attack and if she didn't settle down she was going to hyperventilate. Not to mention, the level of stress required to induce a panic attack was extremely unhealthy for a growing fetus.

"Artimes, look at me." Lily ordered her voice calm and even.

The red head didn't budge and showed no signs of having heard the command.

"Artimes!" She snapped.

The woman slowly raised her head and turned it slightly towards the brunette.

"Everything's going to be fine. You need to calm down. If you don't, you'll hurt the baby." Lily stated keeping her voice steady.

The brunette's word seemed the break whatever mental barrier Artimes had erected to stem the flow of her emotions and they burst through with a vengeance.

"No…no, it's not. I don't…I don't know how to be a mother. My mum died giving birth to me. Oh God, what if I die too?! What if I leave my baby all alone? What if…" Artimes replied becoming damn close to hysterical.

The shock of being pregnant was simply too much for her crimson haired flat mate to handle. Plus the hormones produced during pregnancy wreak major havoc with one's emotional limits, usually making those thresholds significantly lower and much easier to reach which was bad news to everyone else.

Lily did the only thing she could think of that would allow the red head to gain control of herself…she slapped Artimes across the face. Her friend's ranting ceased immediately and her entire body stilled. Her breathing slowed down and her eyes became calmer. The brunette inwardly sighed in relief. She was really glad that worked.

"You will not die. You are far too stubborn to let that happen. You are not alone in this, Artimes. I am right here and I'm not going anywhere. Together, we will raise this child because we are not only friends, we're also family. Together, we can do anything." Lily said softly.

Her crimson haired flat mate looked up at her, a few tears falling from her relief. She wrapped her arms around the brunette and held her close.

"I don't know what I'd do without you." The red head commented.

"You'll never be without me. I won't let anyone take you away from me. Just like I know, you won't let anyone take me away from you. Now come on, sister. We have a lot to learn about pregnancy and babies and who knows what else." Lily replied helping her friend to her feet.

"Artimes let out a shaky laugh and let the brown haired woman drag her out of the bathroom.

* * *

The next couple of months proved to be very interesting; especially when someone factored in Artimes's mood swings, Lily's baby mania, and even more surprising, Greg's over protectiveness. Once the inspector learned that the red head was pregnant, he started visiting more often, bringing helpful gifts, or went baby shopping with a certain energetic chatter box of a brunette named Lily to give the crimson haired woman a small form of respite.

The red head found it particularly fascinating and oddly amusing how the detective inspector had become so intricately woven into the fabric of their lives. He often worried about her, almost as much as Lily did which was saying something in and of itself. Both Lily and Greg had insisted that she go and see 'the baby doctor' to make certain her child was healthy and growing properly.

During the course of the visit, Artimes learned the gender of her unborn child. She was going to give birth to a boy. She already knew what his name would be. It was Sage Sherlock Holmes. He was named for his father of course, but his first name was in the memory and honor of the man who had not only saved her life, but had been kind to her and protected her as a child.

Artimes mentally shook herself free from of those thoughts. Now was not the time to reminisce about her fallen father figure. She was currently shopping with Lily and Greg, who happened to be arguing about what kind of meat they should serve for their Christmas dinner.

"But ham is traditional!" Greg exclaimed.

"But we don't know if Artz will be able to handle it, so we are having turkey!" Lily practically shouted, her arms waving around animatedly.

Artimes sighed silently. Christmas was a little over a week away and she honestly didn't care what they had for dinner so long as she should actually keep it down. Morning sickness usually ran its course after the first trimester, but unfortunately for the red head, she seemed was still cursed with the dreadful nausea and vomiting. She would be lucky to keep anything inside her body. The toilet bowl held more food from her attempts than her stomach ever did.

Ignoring the squabbling couple, she picked up several boxes of Stove Top stuffing. Stuffing, oddly enough, tasted very good to her and did not upset her stomach, so long as Lily didn't over salt it. Greg had turned out to be an amazing chef and had taken over a large portion of the cooking at her home ever since the fiasco that had transpired on Thanksgiving.

Lily had burnt the turkey to within a hair's breadth of charcoal, scorched the bottom of three pots and somehow made the microwave explode. Artimes still wasn't sure how that had actually occurred. They invaded the inspector's flat and explained the situation. Greg was more than happy to cook for them and in return, Lily cleaned his apartment like the neat freak she was.

She placed the boxes into the shopping cart, immediately catching the attention of both of her friends.

"We will have both." Artimes said simply, ending the rather loud debate.

When both opened their mouths to retort, she gave them a stern look and both shut their mouths, one pouting and the other sulking.

About twenty minutes later, Lily struck up a conversation with the detective inspector.

"Soooo…how's that friend of yours?" The brunette asked.

Artimes glanced towards them, barely concealing her own avid interest in this particular subject of discussion.

"You mean Sherlock?" Greg asked wanting clarification.

Lily nodded.

"From what I've heard the doctors, he has made a full recovery and should be released in the next few days." The inspector informed.

The relief the red head felt flooded her system and she felt her son shift slightly, almost like he was sighing in relief for her.

"Just in time for Christmas! How great is that?" Lily exclaimed happily, clapping her hands together in a very childish manner.

Artimes resisted the urge to roll her eyes at her flat mate's silly behavior. There were times when she honestly thought that the brunette was a four year old, but it was an endearing quality of hers, albeit somewhat annoying at times.

They continued their shopping and Artimes caught sight of Janine, Magnussen's PA and now Sherlock's ex-girlfriend, over by the produce. She remembered that things were still left unfinished between the dragon and the detective.

She felt Sage deliver a sturdy and swift kick within her, forcing her mind away from the dark path she had been walking. Sage was the only one that was acutely aware of her true emotional state and he always made certain that his mother didn't venture too far into the darkness.

* * *

It was officially Christmas Day and Artimes wanted to skin her friends alive and string them up by their toe nails. If they weren't arguing about decorations then it was food. If they weren't fussing about her and the baby then they were scolding each other for not checking up on her sooner. Was it too much to ask for some peace and freaking quiet?!

"That's bullshit!" Greg exclaimed at some point.

"Language!" Both Artimes and Lily snapped in unison.

The detective inspector wilted under the power of the twin death glares he was receiving from the girls.

"Sit down, both of you." The red head stated her voice like the arctic and devoid of emotion.

Lily sat on the floor so fast that if anyone had blinked, they would have missed it. She knew that tone and that tone demanded complete and immediate obedience. Greg moved a little slower, uncertain of what to make of the situation. Artimes had never used that tone before and in all honesty, it scared the shit out of him.

"You two have been arguing all day and enough is enough. I wish for nothing more than some peace and quiet, so for God's sake…" Her voice rising as she went before it lowered off again, "…act your respective ages."

Greg opened his mouth to saying something, but Lily quickly clamped a hand over his mouth. The brunette knew that Artimes had finally reached her tolerance limit for the day and she didn't want the inspector to be on the receiving end of her best mate's ire. That would not be very pretty and blood would be so hard to get out of the carpet.

"Why don't you go and rest? We'll stay and clean things up here." Lily offered giving her friend a placating smile, her eyes practically begging.

"Hn." The red head responded looking away.

She rose to her feet gracefully, which was miracle given that she was already well into her second trimester, and left the room at a somewhat brisk pace. Lily sighed heavily in relief and released the detective inspector from her vice like grip.

"What was that?" Greg asked her tone between confusion and demanding.

"A side of Artimes that you never wish to see." The brunette answered cryptically.

"Lily…" He started.

"I can't, Greg. I know you want answers. It's only natural, but I can't. It's not my story to tell, it's hers. Please don't make me take that choice away from her." She interrupted closing her eyes tightly.

The inspector's eyes softened while watching her display of loyalty and friendship. He, better than anyone, should understand what it's like to have a dangerous friend. He couldn't help but see the parallels in this situation. He took notice of the brunette's rigid posture and he sighed inwardly. He wanted answers, but he won't try to con it out of Lily.

"Artimes will make one hell of a mother." He commented redirecting the conversation away from the red head's past completely.

The brunette's posture relaxed significantly and she placed her hands slightly behind her and leaned back.

"Why do you say that?" Lily asked.

"With the stern talking to she gave us, she'll have no problem keeping her son in line. Biggest problem with kids in this day and age, is that they have not been disciplined and their parents haven't set them any proper boundaries and they think they can get away with everything." Greg answered.

"Artz will probably relegate the task of scolding and disciplining to me." The brunette informed.

"Why's that?" The inspector asked.

Lily glanced over at him.

"Artimes doesn't know what it means to be a mother. Her mother died when she was born. For the first weeks, she was second guessing herself, questioning and analyzing every path that a parent could take for raising their child. She finally found a solution." She answered.

"What was the solution?" Greg asked genuinely curious.

He had noticed some time back that the red head's mind worked very similarly to Sherlock's. It was kinda creepy sometimes.

"She doesn't know how to be a mom, but she does know how to be a friend." She answered.

He hummed in approval. That path would suit her well. He could see it clearly in his mind.

"I know that kid of hers is smart and she'll protect him from the darkness out there." He stated his eyes distant, remembering some of the more gruesome cases he's handled in the past.

"She's so strong. I wish I could be that strong." Lily commented sitting up, her hands resting on either side of her.

"Artz is like an elite warrior of the Modern Age, but don't sell yourself short so quickly, Lily. You have your own prowess in battle, just different scenery." He countered.

"I do?" She asked both confused and slightly stunned.

His eyes locked onto hers.

"Your battlefield is the heart, Lily. I don't know what Artimes was like before she met you and frankly, I don't want to know. She's scary enough of as is, but I know that you changed her, you saved her. The strength of your heart is unmatched, Lily Malderan, and I know that she relies heavily on your strength. She respects you, adores you, and loves you. Without you, she would be truly lost." He answered placing his hand over hers.

Lily could feel the blood rushing to her face as it heated up. He was looking at her so intensely that it felt like her heart would just beat right out of her chest. It took a lot of willpower to keep her breathing steady and even.

"Greg…" She started her voice failing her when he spoke his next words.

"And she wouldn't be the only one." He stated as his eyes filled with a warmth she had never before seen.

* * *

A few hours later at the Appledore mansion, Sherlock and John were at the mercy of the tyrannical dragon, Charles Augustus Magnussen.

The detective's mind was reeling. His deduction had been wrong, very wrong. He was confused, angry, and the need to protect his friends was slowly overriding his better judgment. He needed to calm down and think clearly but how? The image of a certain red headed woman flashed through his mind.

'You felt like the odd man out.'

His rampaging thoughts began to slow down.

'How about I give you a lift home?'

His mind began to pull itself back from the edge.

'Totally getting the bachelor vibe from it.'

His thoughts completely stilled as a new puzzle began to take shape.

'Dancing with and find out.'

Piece by piece, fact by fact, the puzzle continued to build itself.

'You created and played this yourself, didn't you'

The puzzle was nearing completion.

'One night.'

Every calculation, every strategy and counter strategy was analyzed.

'Then let me be your guide.'

Sherlock knew what he needed to do and John wasn't going to like it one bit. A helicopter flew of the property before positioning itself in front of the trio. Several dozen armed men began creating a perimeter around Appledore.

"Sherlock Holmes and John Watson, stand away from that man." Mycroft ordered from within the helicopter.

"Here we go, Mr. Holmes." Magnussen stated his usual dead eyes holding an almost wicked gleam.

Sherlock glanced at John briefly before looking towards the newspaper owner.

"To clarify, Appledore's vaults only exist in your mind, nowhere else, just there?" The detective asked making absolutely certain that his decision was the correct one.

He moved to stand next to his best friend.

"They're not real. They never have been." Magnussen answered smugly.

"Sherlock Holmes and John Watson, step away." The elder Holmes ordered.

Magnussen walked forward a few steps and waved his arms in a dismissive manner.

"It's fine! They're harmless!" He stated raising his voice to be heard over the chopper.

The squadron of soldiers continued their approach, their walkie talkies blaring, "Target is not armed. I repeat target is not armed."

"Sherlock, what do we do?" John asked a bit overwhelmed by the situation but handling it.

"Nothing, there's nothing to be done." The newspaper owner glanced back, "Oh, I'm not a villain. I have no…evil plan. I'm a businessman, acquiring assets. You just happen to be one of them."

'Just let go.'

Sherlock looked at his best friend and crime solving partner.

'Just let go.'

He didn't know how to let go and he probably never would, at least not completely, but if he didn't stop Magnussen now then John, Mary, and his Artimes would live under his thumb for the rest of their lives. He must protect them. He was all that stood between Magnussen and his friends. This had to end, this needed to end.

"Sorry, no chance for you to be a hero this time, Mr. Holmes." Magnussen stated his tone layered in a reserved gleefulness.

A hero? Oh no, he wasn't a hero, he was most certainly not a saint, and he could barely classify himself as human on some days. He could never be hero, but perhaps he could be a good man and a good friend.

"Sherlock Holmes and John Watson, stand away from that man. Do it now!" Mycroft ordered.

"Oh do your research…" He started as he reached around John and into the army doctor's right coat pocket.

'Let me be your guide.'

He hid the gun behind him and walked forward.

'Let go.'

"I'm not a hero. I'm a high functioning sociopath." He continued his face becoming so fierce.

'Let go!' Her voice was like a shout inside his mind.

"Merry Christmas!" He yelled as he revealed the gun and shot Magnussen in the head.

The man was dead before he hit the ground. Sherlock dropped the gun and raised his hands in surrender. Artimes's voice was still ringing through his mind.

"Man down, man down!" The walkie talkies blared.

"Get away from me, John! Stay well back!" Sherlock yelled glancing briefly behind him.

The detective felt slightly numb and was now relatively certain that he was suffering from mild shock.

"Christ, Sherlock!" John exclaimed raising his hands in surrender as well.

He didn't care what happened would happen to him. His friends were safe and so was she. That's all he needed.

"Don't fire! Do not fire on Sherlock Holmes! Do not fire!" Mycroft ordered hastily.

Soldiers took positions in front of them and to the sides, their weapons trained on Sherlock.

"Oh Christ, Sherlock." John uttered in complete astonishment and disbelief.

The detective looked over his left shoulder, his heart for all to see, shining with his steely blue eyes.

"Give my love to Mary. Tell her she's safe now." Sherlock stated his voice surprisingly even and steady.

He turned back towards the helicopter and slowly got onto his knees. Inside his soul was crying out, his heart shattered and broken and all this for the sake of those he loved. He let it all go for those he deemed precious and if he was ever given the option of replaying these events, he wouldn't change a thing.

"Oh Sherlock, what have you done?" Mycroft asked his own heart breaking.

Sherlock sacrificed everything and held nothing back.

* * *

Artimes awoke with a scream, her body bolting upright.

"Sherlock!" She cried out.

She was sweating profusely, tears flowing down her face, heart was pounding roughly against her rib cage, and her bringing was rapid and quick. She clutched her chest, trying to will away the immeasurable pain she was feeling. It didn't even like it was coming from her in the first place. Dear God, she wasn't even making sense to herself. All she knew was that it felt like something had shot right through her, leaving her raw and unstable.

Lily burst into the room, still wearing her pajamas and she quickly crawled on the bed. She wrapped her arms around the distressed red head, trying to soother her the best she could.

"It's okay. Everything's okay." The brunette placated.

Artimes's mind was racing; thoughts, images, and feelings all jumbling together. One word was at the heart of it all, the one word she cried out upon waking, and that word was Sherlock. Something was wrong, something had happened. She didn't know how she knew or why, but she knew something had happened to Sherlock.

"Wh-where's my phone? I n-need my phone." She stated shakily.

"Um…" Lily started eyes darting around quickly, searching for said phone.

Upon locating it, she grabbed it and handed it to the red head. Artimes's hands trembled slightly as she pulled up the text conversation with her elder brother.

'Trin.'

Her brother, as always, replied almost instantly.

'The dragon has been slain.'

'How?'

'Gunshot wound to the head, point blank range, no silencer, dead before impact.'

'Who?'

'Your detective.'

Artimes stiffened. Could all those raging have been from Sherlock? That sounded completely ludicrous. Then again, Trin still didn't understand the full effects of the experiments that were conducted on them so long ago. At this point, she couldn't rule anything out, no matter how unlikely it may seem.

'Witnesses?'

'John Watson. Mycroft Holmes and an entire squadron of MI6 agents.'

'Shit.'

'I wished he would have waited.'

'Why?'

'Another minute or two and I would have had a clear shot on the dragon.'

'You would have done that? Why?'

'He's precious to you and that makes him family. No one hurts my family.'

Artimes gripped the phone tightly before suddenly throwing it across the room. The phone shattered on impact.

"Artimes, what's wrong? What happened?" Lily asked her eyes filled with worry.

"Magnussen is dead." The red head stated her head bowed and her hair covering her eyes.

"Who?" The brunette asked.

"Sherlock." She answered a dry and cold chuckle erupting from her throat.

Lily's eyes widened. Artimes was beginning to lose control which made her very scared, but she held it back and kept her faith in her best friend.

"Were there witnesses?" She asked.

"John, Sherlock's brother Mycroft, and a squadron of highly trained British intelligence operatives." The red head answered her tone slipping from the glacial fury that Lily feared to an hopeless dejection.

"There must be something you could." The brunette suggested wracking her brain for a solution.

"John, yes, he would never betray Sherlock, Mycroft, maybe, if he could be persuaded, but not several dozen MI6 agents. There's nothing I can do. Sherlock sealed his fate. My hands are tied. I can't save him." Artimes answered the last of her willpower faded.

The crimson haired woman, who was always so strong and so indomitable, shattered like glass under the weight of her deeper emotions. She cried though out the night and well into the morning hours. It was truly a miracle that she did not go into premature labor or had a miscarriage from the insurmountable stress she was under. Artimes fell asleep with Lily tucked next to her and she dreamt of the only consulting detective in the world, the unlikely and often reluctant hero, Sherlock Holmes.

* * *

Lady A: Chapter 3: A Sociopathic Christmas is complete! So what did you think? Crazy, right? I actually included the scene from episode 3 His Last Vow because I thought it was just an absolutely amazing scene. Anyways, some other news: If anyone likes Starcraft then check out my story Heart of the Terran. You might just laugh your butt off. Also I will not be posting Chapter 4: Purity of Fire until this story has reached double digits in the review department, so that means the counter must hit 10! You only need 6 more! Laters!


	4. Chapter 4: Purity of Fire

Lady A: Hey everyone! Yeah, I know I said I wasn't going to post the next chapter till I got 10 reviews, but I have decided to dedicate this chapter to the 14 followers of this story. So without further ado, Chapter 4 of Two Minds, One Heart. *bows*

* * *

Chapter Four: Purity of Fire

* * *

The atmosphere within the one story home the brunette shared with her best mate was considerably darker than it had been the previous day. Greg had been trying to figure out what had happened. Lily insisted that he was not to blame, but every fiber of his being was demanding that he had to protect the girls.

Artimes's sleep had been fitful at best, Lily was beside herself with worry and seemed to be on the verge of crying at any given moment, and the red head, when awake, sat crossed legged on her bed with her eyes closed and was completely silent. She had not spoken a single word in the last two days.

Greg had tried to coax her out of the death trap that was her room, but after many failed attempts, he ceased his efforts. He remembered how absolute still she had been. It wasn't natural for someone to be that still. He could barely tell she was breathing.

He was currently standing on the front stoop looking up at a very worn out and distressed brunette.

"Lily…" He started but stopped.

He had no idea what to say. What could he possibly say to alleviate even a fraction of her distress? He felt completely and utterly useless. The girls needed him and he was letting them down. Some man he was turning out to be.

"Thank you." Lily whispered giving him a watery smile.

"For what?" He asked honestly confused.

"Your constant presence reminds her of what she needs to do and it gives her the stubbornness and mental fortitude to see it done." She answered.

"What is she doing?" He asked trying to wrap his head around this situation.

"Finding the solution to an impossible quandary." Lily answered cryptically.

Greg gave her an exasperated and somewhat lost look.

"Lily…" He began as she walked forward a few steps.

She covered his mouth with her fingertips which silenced him immediately. She then wrapped both arms around his waist and buried her face into his shirt. He was a little stunned by her actions. They had never been so close before, but he soon realized why when the front of his shirt gradually became wet. Her strong front had faltered for a moment and she was crying.

"I can't tell you because I don't know, Greg. I've never seen her like this. She's never been so distant before, but I do know that she is really, really focused. She only stops talking when she's really focused." Lily rambled holding onto the inspector with a vice like grip.

He had never seen her so distraught, so vulnerable. He wrapped his arms around her and tried to be the pillar of strength she seemed so desperately to need. His heart was aching as he stood there, holding the sobbing woman who had breezed into his life like she owned it. She bossed him around, got on his nerves, and tried his patience, but she was the best damn woman he had ever met. She was kind, caring, and loyal even though she acted like a child at times.

Here they stood, the man of honor and the woman with the valiant heart. She was crying out the very pain of her soul and yet it felt like his own soul was the one that was crying. He looked towards the house, his mind wandering to the crimson haired woman with the brilliant mind and dark past. He had only known them for a few months and yet he was so much closer to them than he ever was to his own family.

Every instinct he had was screaming to protect his girls, his family, but he was at a loss as to what he was protecting them from. He knew they had their secrets just as he had his, though probably not to the same extent as them. Sure, he was used to feeling dumb and idiotic when he was around Sherlock. Who wouldn't when there was a genius in the room?

This situation though was entirely different. This enemy had no body in which to injure. It was a completely unknown entity and he had nothing to go on. He was not accustomed to feeling so completely helpless and it frustrated him to no end. He could only hope that Artimes found whatever it was she was searching for and soon. They needed her.

* * *

*Mindscape*

Artimes stood in an expansive room which looked very much like a digitalized version of hard drive. It was a silvery blue color very similar to Sherlock's eyes. It had originally been a golden amber, but after her encounter with the detective she had altered it. The look of this mental room was based on the AI mainframe from the television series Andromeda. She even had a digitalized version of the Andromeda's AI called Rommie as her mental companion.

"I've gone over the calculations and all available assets. There is no way to prevent it. It will happen." Rommie informed crossing her arms.

The red head growled in annoyance. The morning after Magnussen's death, Artimes had received word that Sherlock was to be banished from Great Britain and would be sent on a mission in Eastern Europe that would claim his life in six months. This, she could not allow. She had spent the last two days trying to find a counter strategy to negate this outcome.

"There must be something, Rommie! Check again!" Artimes snapped her anger and frustration getting the better of her as she paced.

A man with brown hair and green eyes appeared in a flurry of ones and zeroes next to Rommie. This man was Gabriel, former avatar of the Balance of Judgment. He served as a secondary interface for her hard drive. He often held the solutions to problems when Rommie did not, but they usually required means of somewhat questionable legality in order to implement them.

"There may be a way, but it will require something big." Gabriel stated calmly.

Artimes turned and faced him, her eyes narrowing. How big was big and how many favors would she have to call in to get it done? Moreover, would it risk the safety of her unborn son, her best mate, and the inspector? How high was the percentage of failure and how high was it for the entire situation to blow up in her face?

"Explain." She ordered her voice cold and deadly.

He calmly told her what was needed to be done and Artimes disengaged herself from her hard drive.

*End Mindscape*

Artimes opened her eyes slowly. She closed them a moment at the sudden brightness of the room. She then opened them again and they adjusted gradually until she could see clearly. The faint sounds of a violin being played made her heart speed up for a moment, remembering the piece that she and Sherlock had danced to that night. She calmed herself and deduced that Lily must have gotten tired of waiting for her and turned the television on. She hadn't bothered to change it from the new station she had created on their Roku's Pandora radio channel.

She untwisted herself from the Indian style position she had seated herself into on her bed and stood up, her back and joints popping from being still too long. Artimes's eyes softened as she remembered why she had created that particular Pandora station. She always listened to the violin when Sage was being particularly restless. He enjoyed the sounds of that instrument quite a bit which only further proved that he was kin to the consultant detective.

She exited her bedroom and made her way to the living room. Lily was scowling at the screen and raised the remote to change the station. Artimes's hand covered the brunette's to prevent this from occurring. Her sudden interference startled the young woman resulting in her dropping the remote onto the couch in front of her.

It was clear from her flat mate's red and puffy eyes that Lily had been crying, a lot. The red head inwardly recoiled and her body stiffened, her entire being wracked with guilt for causing her best friend such distress. She had cause a lot of pain to her flat mate in the last two days. She did not think of the consequences of taking such an immediate action. She should have explained what she was going to do before she entered her hard drive.

The brunette must have noticed the shift in the red head's state of mind because she gave Artimes a heartfelt though brief hug. She pulled back, her eyes shining with determination. Artimes was very confused by her friend's sudden change in mood. She cocked her head to the left a bit, trying to figure out exactly what it meant.

"What do we need?" Lily asked her voice even, steady, and calm.

The red head's eyes widened for a moment before softening. The brunette obviously did not give herself enough credit. Lily knew Artimes's mind better than anyone could possibly imagine.

"A distraction." She stated simply.

"What kind of distraction?" The brunette asked her body shifting to a stance of readiness subconsciously.

"A big one." She answered vaguely, knowing that it would incite the brunette's curiosity.

"How big is big?" Lily asked slightly skeptical and a little weary.

Artimes fought to keep the smile off her face. She had thought something similar earlier when Gabriel had made his suggestion.

"Oh, I don't know. Something that will catch the attention of…let's say the whole country of England." Artimes answered.

The brunette's mouth fell open.

"And how exactly are we going to manage tha…" She started but got distracted when the TV began to fritz oddly, "What the hell?"

Lily walked over to the television and smacked her hand on the top of it a few times. Artimes resisted the urge to roll her eyes. Contrary to popular belief, whacking something will not fix the problem, and will most likely make it worse.

"Did you miss me?" The TV said causing Lily to back up and look at the screen.

Her eyes widened and she let out a small 'Eep!' in surprise and stumbled back a few more steps.

"But that's not possible… it can't be…he's dead…it's…" Lily rambled a bit, her voice trying to catch up to her whirling thoughts.

"James Moriarty." Both girls said together.

Lily's phone started going berserk and she whipped it out quickly. She scrolled through the messages she had just received, her eyes going a little bug eyed.

"It's not just us. This is happening all across the country, on every screen simultaneously." She informed.

Artimes chuckled as the grin she had been fighting finally slid onto her face. Lily, upon realizing what she had just said, smiled like an idiot. She pulled out her friend's replacement phone and tossed it to the highly amused and almost giddy red head.

"Go save our detective." The brunette ordered crossing her arms.

Artimes nodded at her friend.

"With pleasure." She answered leaving the room.

She had a very important phone call to make and it was going to be highly productive and very entertaining.

* * *

Deep within the walls of the Buckingham Palace, the Chief of Staff for her majesty, Queen Elizabeth II, was stationed outside the sun room in the Eastern wing. Her majesty had retired to this particular room for its lack of a television. A problem had arisen with the broadcasting and had startled the queen.

His mobile began to ring quietly, and he wondered he would be calling him since the crisis with the televisions had yet to be resolved. He pulled it from his inner left jacket pocket and answered it.

"Tell me. What do you know of the purity of fire?" The caller asked.

The man paled considerably at those words and a lump lodged in his throat. He had been told by her majesty about this particular individual and the code phrase required to answer her. He knew her reputation and had a vague account of the deeds she had done on behalf of the Royal family. Why? Why would she be calling? He had heard an unconfirmed rumor from Mycroft Holmes that she had retired. Why would she suddenly get into contact now?

"They say that lightning is the purest form of fire, but there is something that burns hotter than fire and shines brighter than lightning." He began managing to clear his throat discreetly beforehand.

"It is the fire that burns in the heart and the light that shines in the soul. It is the place where darkness dare not dwell and it is the only place where the lightning's shadow can be seen." The caller finished.

The Chief of Staff took a deep breath.

"What do you need?" He asked almost fearful of what her response might be.

"I need to speak to your employer." The caller answered.

There was a barely contained gleefulness in her tone and it made shivers go down his spine in fear. She was calling to speak to the queen. God help them. She was finally collecting payment on the many debts owed to her by the Royal family. This would not end well.

* * *

The queen gazed around the sun room, a bored expression on her face. Of all days for that mad man to make a reappearance. He certainly did know how to make her life so dreadfully dull. She didn't particularly care for this room and had meaning to have it redecorated. Everything was in shades of ivory, cream, or opal. All in all, the room was simply too bland.

She honestly wished that something interesting would happen to save her from her silent boredom. Her Chief of Staff entered the room, his face pale and his eyes slightly wide with fear. Good heavens, what happened to the poor man to put him in such a state?

"Forgive the intrusion, your majesty, but it's…_her_." He stated his voice raising an octave at the word 'her'.

Her eyes widened slightly, but not out of fear. Oh no, she would never fear the person her employee referred to. The queen knew the true heart of that woman and there was nothing to fear from such a kind and gentle soul, no matter how dark and turbulent her past was. She accepted the phone and brought it to her ear as the Chief of Staff left the room.

"Why hello dear. It certainly has been a long time. Why have you not come to see me?" She asked smiling.

She never treated this woman like the monster everyone believed her to be. She spoke to her as if she were an old friend and in all honesty, she was. The young woman had never treated her like a royal and for that, Elizabeth was eternally grateful. She had enough people bowing to her as is and her beloved Light's antics were rather refreshing and often times saved her from the dullness of nobility.

"Forgive my absence, Liz, but I got lost on the road of life." Light answered her tone humorous.

"Oh my, I never knew retirement could be so distracting." Elizabeth commented.

"They say those who are retired lead busier lives than those who still work for a living." The woman stated.

The queen chuckled softly. How she missed these conversations?

"Now tell me, my Light. What is the true purpose and intent for this call? For I am certain that it was not simply for nostalgia's sake alone. If that were the case, you would have used my private line, but you called my Chief of Staff, meaning you want it to be known that though you may be retired, you are not gone." Elizabeth deduced.

"Right on all counts, your majesty. I'm certain by now you have been apprised of certain…_irregularities_ in today's televisual broadcasting schedule." Light answered.

"Indeed I have. I received such knowledge first hand. It gave me quite the fright while I was watching the cooking channel." She replied knowing what the young woman's reaction would be.

"You're still on that kick? Remember the soufflé incident last spring?" Light asked her tone highly amused and slightly concerned.

Elizabeth out right laughed. Only her Light could be amused and worried at the same time. She had just cause to be, considering the soufflé the queen had been trying to make exploded from the oven, soufflé debris going everywhere and covering both herself, her Light, and her Light's charming friend, Lily, from head to toe.

An entire squadron of security officers had burst into the room to discover the cause for of the 'explosion' and had had to contend with a seriously pissed off Light. It was then decided that Elizabeth was not allowed to go near an oven without the supervision of the head chef or his staff. Ah, good times.

"Yes, I remember, but back to the matter at hand. What is it that you need of me?" The queen asked her tone becoming serious.

"I have a favor…several in fact." Light stated.

Elizabeth resisted the urge to roll her eyes. Why else would Light call her Chief of Staff and not her directly? She had already discerned that she needed something from her, not as Liz, but as the Queen of England.

"Given the amount of debt that I, my family, my secret service, my government, and my entire country owes to you, there is nothing you can ask for that will surprise me." The queen replied suddenly remembering the tea sitting in front of her.

She took a sip and frowned. Her tea had gone cold, how annoying. She set the cup down with a silent huff.

"Is that so? Well hold onto to your crown, Lizzy, there's a first time for everything." Light countered her tone slightly smug.

Interesting. Was it truly possible for her favors to be so fantastic that it would surprise even her? The queen smirked slightly. Hardly. Light mentioned the issue with the televisions, so this had something to do with that lunatic. She was certain of it.

"Your favors undoubtedly center around a certain consultant criminal. You mentioned the broadcast earlier, so tell me what you want in regards to that mad man." The queen stated.

"Always so confident in your powers of deductive reasoning. You've been reading Doctor Watson's blog too much. My favors have nothing to do with the consulting criminal, but rather his arch nemesis, the consultant detective." Light replied.

Elizabeth's eyebrows shot up in surprise. Sherlock Holmes? Why would her Light be interested in the exiled detective? He was a murderer. He shot a man in the head in front of dozens of witnesses. She would think that Light would be disgusted by that sort of act…unless there was a greater reason behind his actions.

She knew that Magnussen was about as far away from a saint as one could get without being called the devil incarnate. Perhaps she should inquire after Mycroft about the incident. She had a feeling she was missing something very important in regards to this detective.

"How did the Americans phrase it? Ah yes, I do believe it is high time to stop beating around the bush." Elizabeth stated her tone one of authority.

She disliked using such a tone, but she needed answers and only her Light could provide them at this time.

"Very well. Repeal the exile of Sherlock Holmes, grant him a royal pardon for his crimes against Charles Augustus Magnussen, sanction his work as a consultant detective, allow him to work freely with the police without obstacle or hindrance, and for heaven's sake, make certain he is adequately compensated for his consultant work. God knows how many crimes have been solved by that man's hands alone." Light informed her voice holding a tone that demanded complete compliance or the consequences would be rather unsightly and forthwith.

In all honesty, the queen was in a state of shock. Light not only meant business, but that she was also willing to go to whatever means were necessary to see it done. Her requests were well thought out and worded to perfection. This was no longer the light and cheerful banter amongst friends but the demand of payment for a debt owed to the very dangerous and very lethal, Lightning Shadow. It was beyond all shadow of doubt that Light genuinely and deeply cared for the consultant detective, Sherlock Holmes.

She has claimed him as her own and thus he falls under her protection and that of her brother, Shadow Moon. Had she known of his ties to her Light, she would have acted more proactively and he would never have been banished in the first place and he would already have a royal pardon. She never wanted to hurt her Light, but her own stagnation and ignorance had clearly done so. She will do whatever it takes to rectify the wrong she has so idiotically committed against her friend. Still she was curious as to how those two met in the first place and what he did to warrant her favor.

"It will be done…though may I ask, why the sudden interest in this man?" Elizabeth asked.

There was a long pause.

"What are you doing next Thursday…around three o'clock?" Light asked suddenly, her tone much softer and kinder than it once was.

Elizabeth sighed inwardly in relief. It would seem that for the moment, she has been forgiven.

"I have a meeting with the prime minister." She answered.

"Cancel it. We'll have tea." Light ordered her tone belying her humor.

The queen shook her head. Her friend was back to her usual antics. She certainly did love to rankle the prime minister. The idiot shouldn't have insulted her at the last charity ball, because Light has made certain to ruin his life perfectly made schedule on several occasions just to piss him off.

"Will you bring that friend of yours along as well? I do miss her energy. It get so dreadfully dull in the palace." She inquired smiling slightly as she remembered the cheerful brunette and her child like wonder.

"Of course. Can't let you get bored, now can we? We'd have another soufflé incident in no time." The young woman answered.

Elizabeth frowned slightly. Light was evading her earlier question.

"You're not going to tell me why you are so deeply involved with Sherlock Holmes, are you?" She asked slightly miffed at being denied the chance at sating her rampaging curiosity.

Light chuckled softly.

"You'll understand when I come by for tea next week." She answered cryptically.

The queen's brows furrowed in mild confusion. Trying to deduce Light was always a problem given that everything about her was cloaked in an odd static that seemed to disrupt all the senses simultaneously whether you were physically in front of her or not. It's like you can read it but you simply don't want to and therefore you ignore it. That reaction was completely subconscious and there was no way around her strange filter. It was a part of her. It reminded her of the low level perception filter that the Tardis possessed. Blimey, she has been watching too many reruns of Doctor Who.

"Have a good day, Liz." Light said suddenly, drawing the queen from her thoughts.

"You as well, my Light. I will be bring your detective home." Elizabeth replied.

"Thank you." Light responded gratitude ringing loud and clear in those two words.

The queen ended the call, her eyes distant as she mulled over the entire conversation. One thing was absolutely clear; she had a great deal of work to do and not a lot of time to get it done. She left the sun room with her Chief of Staff following closely on her heels. She had promised to return her Light's detective and she going to make damn certain that nothing and no one got in her way.

* * *

Lady A: Tada! Chapter 4: Purity of Fire is complete! So what did you think? Crazy right? We all know who Light is right? If you don't, you might as well smack yourself in the forehead, because it is so obvious. Also the tone for the question 'What do you know of the purity of fire?' originally came from Doctor Who. you want to know the tone then go watch The Time of Angels/Flesh and Stone. The original question, said by Doctor River song, was 'What do you know of the Weeping Angels?' Next chapter will be Chapter 5: The East Wind!


	5. Chapter 5: The East Wind

Lady A: Welcome ladies and gents to Chapter 5 of Two Minds, One Heart. This chapter will be a bit odd since part of it will take place before or around the events of Chapter 4: Purity of Fire. Also I hope you're happy! I had to track down a transcript for this chapter so that I didn't have to sit in front of the TV and watch the same like 10 minutes of the end of Season 3 Episode 3: His Last Vow over and over. It did, however, prove to be a challenge because I had to reorganize the movements and character positions to actually get this chapter flowing right. Anyways, I am apparently babbling so onto the chapter!

* * *

Chapter Five: The East Wind

* * *

An airfield, what a lousy place to say goodbye, but Sherlock was given much choice in the matter. He was trying his best to ignore his elder brother and the idiot his brother called a security officer. Fortunately, his attention was soon drawn to a black car driving along the runway towards the jet that served as the means of his final exit. It just seemed so anti-climatic. There was a faint giggling in the back of his mind.

'Do you always have to be such a child, Sherlock?' Her voice asked.

The voice belonged to his Artimes. Sometime after the events at Appledore, he had created a mental version of the red head within his mind. He would never admit to it out aloud but she was making his inevitable departure a little less emotional. He needed to stay in control, not for his sake, but for John and Mary.

The car finally came to a stop. He watched as Mary exited the vehicle on the left side while John exited from the opposite side. Mary walked up to him, a smile on her face. John followed closely behind her.

"You will look after him for me, won't you?" Sherlock asked.

"Oh…" She started then stopped as she put her hands on his shoulders and they kissed each other's cheeks, followed closely by a warm hug, "…Don't worry, I'll keep him in trouble."

Sherlock smiled as she released him and pulled back.

"That's my girl." He replied.

Mary turned and walked back over to where John had stopped a short distance away and took his hand. John nodded to Sherlock in greeting and the detective turned to his annoying elder brother who was hovering nearby like a vulture.

'Be nice.' Artimes chided.

He hated being nice, especially to his brother, but he supposed in this instance he probably should. Manners were so annoying. The red head giggled at his childish behavior.

"Since this is likely to be the last conversation I'll have with John Watson…would you mind if we took a moment?" He asked as respectfully as he could.

'Good boy.' Artimes said snickering slightly.

He inwardly rolled his eyes.

Mycroft motioned for Mary and the security guard to follow him towards the side of the plane. They followed the elder Holmes without a word. Sherlock turned to John, who smiled at him and nodded.

'Give us a moment.' He requested internally.

He could see the image of her in his mind. She smiled softly, her eyes full of understanding. She nodded and retreated to the deeper parts of his Mind Palace.

"So, here we are." John stated looking around the airfield.

He cleared his throat and stepped a little closer. The detective honestly felt like his heart was breaking. John was trying so hard to keep together. The situation was far too serious. He needed to lighten things up before the emotional dam in his friend's eyes burst. He wanted to maintain his best mate's dignity and he couldn't do that if he was balling like a baby.

"William Sherlock Scott Holmes." He said suddenly.

The army doctor looked at him in confusion.

"Sorry?" He asked.

Sherlock smiled slightly.

"That's the whole of it…if you're looking for baby names." He answered.

John chuckled softly.

"No, we've had a scan. We're pretty sure it's a girl." John informed.

"Oh…okay." The detective answered still continuing to smile.

The two looked elsewhere except at each other, a rather awkward silence hovering between them for several seconds.

"Yeah." John said, "Actually, I can't think of a single thing to say."

"No, neither can I." Sherlock replied looking down.

He lifted his head as John stepped closer.

"The game is over." The army doctor stated quietly.

The detective looked his best friend in the eyes.

"The game is never over, John, but there may be some new players now. It's okay. The East Wind takes us all in the end." Sherlock replied his tone becoming quieter at the end.

"What's that?" John asked mildly confused.

"It's a story my brother told me when we were kids. The East Wind…this terrifying force that lays waste to all in its path. It seeks out the unworthy and plucks them from the Earth. That was generally me." The detective answered pausing now and again.

"Nice!" The army doctor commented practically scoffing.

"He was a rubbish big brother." He replied.

They both smiled. John looked down, clearing his throat in the process.

"So what about you then? Where are you actually going now?" He asked looking back up.

Sherlock faltered for half a second, not really wanting to tell his best friend about the end that was waiting for him if he got on that plane.

"Oh, some undercover work in Eastern Europe." He answered doing his best to sound bored.

"For how long?" John asked.

It was a normal question to ask, but the detective could not tell the army doctor that he would be dead in six months.

"Six months, my brother estimates. He's never wrong." Sherlock answered looking slightly over his friend's shoulder.

"And then what?" John pressed.

And then he'll be dead. Sherlock met his gaze for a moment then looked down thoughtfully. He raised his head and proceeded to gaze off into the distance while shrugging.

"Who knows?" He finally answered.

The army doctor nodded and then turned away to look across the air field again, breathing deeply. Sherlock looked directly at him, trying to sort out his conflicting emotions. John turned back and the detective looked down again. He should tell the army doctor how much his friendship meant to him, for always staying by him, and putting up with him all these years. John was the best friend he ever had and he would sorely miss him.

"John, there's something ... I should say; I-I've meant to say always and then never have. Since it's unlikely we'll ever meet again, I might as well say it now." Sherlock began.

He was hesitating. He wasn't one for revealing just how much people meant to him and he was having quite a difficult time trying to get it out. He couldn't. If he told John what he wanted to say then the army doctor would know that something was seriously wrong. He couldn't risk John finding out. He would not be able to bear it if John knew he was going to his death. He would admit it within his own mind, it hurt too much.

He had been callous when he faked his death and not told John, but this time was different. This time he really was going to die. He wanted his best mate to believe that he was still alive out in the world somewhere rather than dead because of a fool hardy mission his brother had sent him on to give him just a little more time rather than being executed or imprisoned for life. He simply couldn't be that selfish, so he was going to save John Watson one last time.

"Sherlock is actually a girl's name." He stated his internal struggle lasting only seconds.

John turned away, giggling almost silently. Sherlock smiled at him and John turned back, still smiling.

"It's not." The army doctor replied.

"It was worth a try." The detective responded shrugging.

"We're not naming our daughter after you." John insisted.

"I think it could work." He countered.

John chuckled then met his eyes. Sherlock held his gaze for a moment then lowered his eyes. After a few seconds he took off his right glove and held out his hand.

"To the very best of times, John." The detective stated.

For a few moments, John hesitated. Finally, he took Sherlock's hand and shook it. They stood there for a long moment before the detective gave the army doctor's hand a slight squeeze before releasing it and turning away. He puts his glove back on as he walked away.

He had to leave before his emotions got the better of him. His mental Artimes resurfaced and she stood by the steps leading up into the aircraft, her eyes sad but still full of understanding.

John watched his friend walk along the side of the plane to the steps and as he got on board. Once the final checks were complete, the plane taxied along the runway. Sherlock sat looking out of one of the right hand windows. Mary and John were standing by the car, holding hands and watching from the left side of the plane as it lifted into the sky.

The detective continued to gaze out of the window as the plane flew off into the distance.

'You're going to miss them, aren't you?' Artimes asked appearing in the seat in front of them.

'Of course I am. They're my family.' He answered not even glancing at her.

He really didn't want to have to explain why he was staring at an empty seat.

'Do you miss me?' She asked.

He really did look at her that time.

'Yes.' He answered turning back towards the window.

'Sherlock, why am I dangerous?' She asked suddenly.

He frowned.

'I don't know.' He answered.

'Yes, you do. It's because you can't deduce me. Do you wonder why you can't?' She asked.

Where in the world were all these questions coming from? She was being awfully chatty.

'Why can't I?' He asked deciding to play along.

'Because your own mind subconsciously told you to ignore any deduction that you gleamed from me. In doing so, it implanted the idea that I was dangerous since no other information could be obtained.' She answered.

His own mind, but how could that be?

'You'll figure it out very soon, Sherlock.' She said smiling.

'If you haven't noticed, I've been exiled. There will not be an opportunity to analyze you again.' He pointed out irritated.

'Oh? I wouldn't be too sure about that.' She countered.

'Why's that then?' He asked.

'Because you're going to take the phone.' She answered vanishing.

* * *

At the a pub, many customers were watching a football match on the Sports 1 channel. The score is SFC zero – zero INTER. Several men shouted encouragingly as the commentary played over the footage.

"Smith brings it inside. This looks good." The TV blared.

The screen fritzed briefly.

"Cassandra comes in for a shot…" The commentator said just as the player missed the shot, "Oh he missed it!"

Some of the customers groaned loudly. Detective Inspector Greg Lestrade, who stood next to the bar, grimaced at the negative chorus. The television began to fritz again and one of the customers called out to the owner.

"Oi! What's up with the telly? There's something wrong with the telly, mate!" He shouted.

The TV continued to fritz.

"Give it a whack then!" Another called out.

Greg knew better than to hit a TV because it never worked. He actually broke his last one doing that. He looked up at the screen which had gone to static, but it slowly began to clear. A shape was starting to come through the distortion but it didn't look at all like the match they had been watching. It was the head and shoulders of someone facing to the right with their head turned away from the camera.

Greg continued to stare at the screen as the image became clearer and his face went blank from shock.

"Who's that?" A customer asked.

Greg knew who it was and he couldn't honestly believe what he was seeing. A voice began to speak through the television and it made shivers go down his spine. The voice was being distorted by an electrical device that changes the tone and pitch of a person's voice. All in all, it was just downright creepy.

"Did you miss me?" A high pitched voice asked.

It shifted octaves and went lower.

"Did you miss me?" It repeated in a deep baritone.

* * *

At Baker Street in 221B, Mrs. Hudson, being the caring woman she was, was vacuuming the living room. She had the television on as background noise. The altered voice came through the speakers, gaining her attention.

"Did you miss me? Did you miss me?" The voice asked in a higher octave.

She jumped in shock when she looked at the screen and promptly screamed.

* * *

Across town at Saint Bart's Hospital, Molly stared in horror from the lab she was in and into the room next door that had a television playing on a table.

"Did you miss me?" It said in a deep baritone.

* * *

In a conference room, Lady Smallwood stared up from her seat looking at a TV screen.

"How is this possible?" She asked stunned.

Sir Edwin stood beside her, also staring at the screen.

"We don't know, but it's on every screen in the country, every screen simultaneously." He informed.

"Has the Prime Minister been told?" She asked looking up at Sir Edwin, "And Mycroft?"

"Mycroft is being informed as we speak, but it seems that her majesty has ordered for Sherlock Holmes to be returned to Britain and has granted him a Royal pardon for Magnussen's murder." He answered.

"The queen, but why would she become involved?" Lady Smallwood asked.

"The Chief of Staff mentioned three words." He started.

"What three words?" She asked her eyes narrowing.

"Purity of Fire." He answered.

Lady Smallwood's face turned white as her eyes grew wide at the implications of those words.

* * *

Mycroft sat in the back seat of a black stationary car and currently had a phone to his ear.

"But that's not possible." He denied as he opened the car door and got out, "That is simply not possible."

He looked across to where John and Mary were standing; still holding hands on the airfield. They looked towards him as he frowned deeply.

The army doctor released his wife's hand and moved towards him a bit.

"What's happened?" John asked.

* * *

In the executive jet, Sherlock was trying very hard to ignore his chatter box Artimes, but her final statement had caught him off guard.

'Because you're going to take the phone.' The red head said vanishing.

"Sir?" A male attendant said.

The detective looked round as a man held out a phone towards him.

"It's your brother." The man clarified.

Sherlock took the phone and held it to his ear.

"Mycroft?" He asked slightly annoyed at having to deal with his brother again so soon.

"Hello, little brother. How's the exile going?" Mycroft asked.

Artimes giggled within his mind. How long has he been gone?

'Four minutes.' She supplied.

"I've only been gone four minutes." He answered smartly.

The elder Holmes was sitting in the back of his car again and was smiling.

"Well, I certainly hope you've learned your lesson. As it turns out, you're needed." He informed cheekily.

Sherlock's heart sped up. He was really returning home, but for how long? It didn't matter. His eyes shined from his delight and Artimes giggled once more.

"Oh for God's sake. Make up your mind. Who needs me this time?" He asked returning to his usual snappish attitude.

* * *

In Mycroft's car, the distorted voice could be heard.

"Did you miss me? Did you miss me?" It said in a higher octave.

The elder Holmes looked to the front of the car where a small television screen was set into the dashboard. On the screen was a still picture of Jim Moriarty facing the camera and smiling. To the left of his mouth was the message: MISS ME? The jaw of Jim's picture had been animated so that it moved up and down a little as the voice continuously repeated the same four words over and over.

"Did you miss me? Did you miss me?" It said in a higher pitch.

* * *

In Piccadilly Circus in London, the huge television screens above the street were each filled with the same partly animated picture of Jim's smiling face with the message beside it and the altered voice played over the speakers.

"Did you miss me? Did you miss me?" It said in a high tone.

* * *

A view from a high vantage point showed the city of London as the voice played on.

"Did you miss me? Did you miss me?" The voice said in that same irritatingly high octave.

* * *

In the back of the car as the voice continued to play on in the background uninterrupted, the elder Holmes spoke a single word into his phone as his response to his younger brother's question.

"England." Mycroft answered letting out an exasperated sigh.

* * *

Outside the car, Mary looked at her husband in confusion.

"But he's dead. I mean, you told me he was dead…Moriarty." She said stating the obvious.

"Absolutely, he blew his own brains out." He replied also confused.

"So how can he be back?" She asked like he actually knew the answer to her query.

John turned and looked to his right.

"Well if he is…he'd better wrap up warm." He commented smiling slightly.

Mary followed his gaze.

"There's an East Wind coming." John continued his voice barely containing the almost triumphant tone.

The army doctor and his wife watched as the consultant detective's plane came in to land, their eyes shining with relief and a fair amount of joy.

* * *

Lady A: And there you have it. Chapter 5: The East Wind is complete. Just for those who might be curious, I actually hand typed this whole thing and nothing was copied directly from the original source which is Ariane DeVere's transcript so kudos to her for actually typing out the whole bloody thing. Leave a review because I worked for over two and half hours on this so that it was complete perfection for your reading pleasure. *gives you all the puppy dog eyes*


	6. Chapter 6: Lightning Shadow

Lady A: Welcome to Chapter 6 of Two Minds, One Heart! This chapter is dedicated to the cast and crew who work tirelessly to make one of the greatest shows in history, Sherlock…well in my opinion at least. Now many of you have been wondering about the tidbit of information I placed in Prequel II: One Morning. This chapter will explain a little about the mysterious Lightning Shadow comment that was thought by our favorite red head, Artimes. Though I am pretty certain that some of you had already figured it out. Now on with the show!

* * *

Chapter Six: Lightning Shadow

* * *

The great consultant detective sat in his chair in his usual prayer position, staring at the mental version of his Artimes. She sat across from him in John's chair, her legs tucked neatly under her and her hands in her lap.

'You're doing it again.' She commented.

'Doing what?' He asked.

'Trying to deduce me.' She answered crossing her arms.

'Hn.' He replied leaning back in his chair, his arms resting on the arms of the chair.

The red head gave him a pointed look before sitting back as well, uncrossing her arms.

'You do remember that I am simply a figment of your imagination created by you in a highly emotional and traumatic time to offer you comfort and mental stability while you sorted through your shock, subsequent loss of a home, friends, and family, and your duel of wits and intellect with a mad man. This rendition of me, by balance of probability and the factor of time, is undoubtedly highly inaccurate and influenced by your own personality and desires. To put it simply, I am what you make me to be, Lock, and you can't deduce anything new because I do not actually exist.' She countered her expression solemn.

Sherlock looked away from her. He knew that, but that didn't stop him from trying. A part of him actually believed that his version of the red head was more accurate than inaccurate. That was what his instincts were telling him. He simply had no way of proving that as of yet.

He glanced towards the desk on his left and looked at the black motorbike helmet sitting on its semi cluttered surface. After he concluded the Moriarty case, he had begun his search for the mysterious crimson haired woman that screamed danger. After almost a month, he had found nothing. He was ninety seven percent certain that she lived in London. As to what part of London, that remained a mystery.

The vocabulary she had used during their encounter was mostly American in origin and thus of no use in locating her. Her accent was clear cut British, meaning she had been living in the country for some time; however, there was no distinct area of origin. Every part of London has its own unique dialect or way of speaking. One could always tell whether someone lived in Northern or Southern London based on the differences in vernacular and speech flow.

The only tidbit of information she had offered was the knowledge of her flat mate, Lily. Given how common her flat mate's name was and the innumerable amount of flat shares in his area alone, it effectively made that piece of information completely void. He had so little information in which to work from and he emphatically refused to get his elder brother involved. Artimes was his mystery to solve and he would not allow his annoying elder brother the chance to sink his claws into her.

'As if that would happen.' Artimes commented a look of disgust on her face.

The corners of the detective's mouth twitched slightly as a small smile fought its way onto his face. He found it rather amusing that his mental Artimes actually hated Mycroft more than he did.

He looked back at her when her head snapped up and turned towards the open door, as if she was expecting someone to be there. He heard the door below open and close and judging from the particularly heavy foot falls, he was about to have a visit from his elder brother. How annoying? It couldn't be helped really, given his recent decline in cases. The government official was bound to check on him sooner or later out of…concern.

Mycroft Holmes, the elder of the two siblings, entered the flat like he owned it, his suit a somewhat tighter fit since their last encounter almost three weeks. His diet had apparently failed yet again and he was putting on weight at an alarming pace…twelve, no, thirteen pounds this time.

"Good afternoon, brother mine." The elder Holmes stated giving him a once over.

No doubt trying to deduce whether or not the consultant detective had been partaking in certain illegal substances. His mental Artimes started making faces at his brother and it took a great deal of effort not to chuckle at her antics.

"What do you want, Mycroft?" Sherlock asked sounding bored.

He once again adopted his prayer position, closing his eyes for a moment.

"I am simply concerned, dear brother. You haven't been accepting many cases as of late." Mycroft answered leaning on his umbrella.

Artimes growled at the elder Holmes, who was blissfully unaware of the highly annoyed and bristling mental red head. Heaven forbid if the real Artimes was here, his dear brother would undoubtedly be on the receiving end of her ire.

"I've been working." The detective stated opening his eyes.

There were three reasons why he was not taking on as many cases as he usually did. The first was apparent, given that she was sitting in the army doctor's chair, the second was that Mary was due to give birth in a couple of months and he needed to be available in case his friends needed him, and the third was the puzzle that revolved around the queen's actions in regards to himself.

"On?" His brother asked.

'The mystery of your ever growing waist line.' Artimes answered smartly.

Sherlock's lips twitched as he fought to keep the smirk off his face.

"The queen." He supplied his face becoming passive before looking towards his brother, his arms returning to the arm rests.

"Ah…you're still trying to deduce the motivation behind her recent involvement." The government official replied.

"It was more than just being involved, Mycroft. Her actions were very specific. The repeal of my exile, the royal pardon, the legalization of my work, access to the resources of Scotland Yard, and the fact that I am to be paid for any and all services rendered. Everything points to the conclusion that there is more to this little puzzle that has yet to be revealed." Sherlock countered pinning his brother with a pointed stare.

"Very good, brother mine. You're right. Let's just say that her majesty was highly motivated, shall we?" Mycroft stated cryptically.

'Pompous ass.' Artimes muttered.

Sherlock's eyes narrowed.

"What do you know, Mycroft?" The detective asked well more like demanded.

"Tell me, brother, what do you know of the purity of fire?" The elder Holmes asked all traces of humor gone.

"It's a code phrase, one of two in fact, requiring a longer code phrase in response, possibly two. They belong to the two most highly skilled intelligence operatives in all of Great Britain, possibly the Western world. The first is Dark Side of the Moon belonging to the second best operative, Shadow Moon. Purity of Fire is in reference to the best operative, Lightning Shadow, believed to be deceased; though that is unverified at this current point in time." He answered easily accessing that information in his Mind Palace.

"Not deceased, little brother, but retired. Shadow Moon and Lightning Shadow are siblings by blood, Shadow Moon being the elder of the two. Highly skilled, yes, but not just the best in our little corner of paradise, but the best in the entire world. The elder sibling is rather straight forward and demands only money in exchange for his services. The younger, however, is infinitely more clever and requires favors as her payment." His brother informed.

Sherlock was slightly taken aback at that last piece of information. Artimes smirked at his thoughts.

"Lightning Shadow is a woman?" He asked seeking clarification.

"A very dangerous one at that. Out of the two siblings, Lightning Shadow is by far the most deadly and the most cunning. Every mission she has accepted ended with success as well as a one hundred percent kill ratio, leaving no survivors or witnesses whatsoever. She is known as the Queen of Thieves, the number one mercenary in the trade, the best assassin in the world, and has been deemed as The Killing Perfection. To put it simply, dear brother, she is the ultimate human weapon and is believed to be without a soul." Mycroft answered.

"Then why is she still alive? It's obvious that she poses an even greater threat than Moriarty." Sherlock asked.

"Because this country owes her more debts than it can ever hope to repay in this lifetime and if she so desired, she could single handedly bring down the entire British government with the knowledge at her disposal." The elder Holmes informed.

What did the ultimate assassin have to do with the queen and by proxy, himself? None of this was making any rational sense.

"Why are you telling me all this? This information is undoubtedly classified at the highest level, so why?" He asked.

"The reason, Sherlock, is that, it was Lightning Shadow who motivated the queen. She got in touch and asked for five favors in direct relation to you, all of which the queen granted almost instantaneously. You have somehow garnered the interest of the most dangerous individual in the world, brother mine." The government official replied his tone serious.

Sherlock's mind was buzzing, trying to discover exactly how and when he could have attracted her attention. His eyes snapped over briefly to his mental Artimes. The red head cocked her head to the side in confusion. No, it wasn't her. He may not have been able to deduce her, but she was not the woman his brother had described. She was the furthest thing from such a blood soaked image.

"I do ask that you tread carefully, little brother. This woman is not to be trifled with. If you cross her, she will make you disappear." Mycroft warned.

"Wouldn't be the first time someone has wanted me dead?" The detective stated nonchalantly.

"You misunderstand, dear brother. When I say 'she will make you disappear', it will not only be your life that is forfeit, but any and all who have known you: The Watsons, Mrs. Hudson, Inspector Lestrade, Molly Hooper, our parents, me, your clients, and even your enemies." The elder Holmes clarified.

"Ah…so this is a matter of self preservation on your part. I see." Sherlock replied smirking.

Artimes giggled at the pointed glare the detective was receiving from his elder brother.

"Just be careful, Sherlock." Mycroft stated turning to leave, "I am not certain what you did to gain her favor, but I do suggest that you keep her interest…for all our sakes."

With that parting remark, the government official left the consultant detective to his thoughts and took his leave from 221B Baker Street.

* * *

Lady A: And there you have it. Chapter 6: Lightning Shadow is complete! Quite a lot of information was given in this chapter, not all of it accurate. *winks* Be on the lookout for Chapter 7: The Great Escape!


	7. Chapter 7: The Great Escape

Lady A: So sorry for the long wait! I had gotten stuck on one of the transitions and had several other stories drawing my attention away, but I'm back and I have not one but two chapters hand written and ready to go. Would have had three but I thought I would be nice and post a new chapter for all my loyal followers. I love you guys so much!

In other news, if you are a fan of the Star Trek reboots or you simply love the fact that Benedict Cumberpatch, who plays Sherlock, is Khan in ST: Into Darkness then you should check out Darkness and Light, a story for Ben's version of Khan. *purrs in delight* Watching Khan was like watching a badass, evil version of Sherlock. *looks all dreamy eyed* Anyways, on to Chapter 7 of Two Minds, One Heart!

* * *

Chapter Seven: The Great Escape

* * *

It has been approximately three months since Artimes had saved her detective and she felt larger than a house. Her feet hurt, her back ached, she was hungry all the time, and she has been making a ridiculous amount of trips to the bathroom. She swore her son was using her bladder as a trampoline.

Her due date was about two and a half weeks from now, give or take a day or two. Greg was currently out of town with several other officers who were undergoing the Yard's yearly reevaluations, but he would back in four days and leave plenty of time to spare before the baby was born. Lily was currently running herself ragged making the final preparations to the nursery, tending to the red head, and even had time to spare to worry about the detective inspector. Artimes had a funny feeling that something monumental had occurred between the blond D.I. and her flat mate.

Artimes was currently sitting on the couch, trying her best to ease the pain in her back. It had become increasingly worse in the last few days and she was contemplating an early visit to the doctor to make certain everything was alright. She gasped when there was a sudden jolt of pain in her stomach.

"Artz, are you okay?" Lily asked quickly abandoning her previous task and coming to her side.

There was another sharp pain making her gasp again.

"I think we need to go to the hospital." The red head stated.

"Is the baby coming?" The brunette asked worriedly.

"I am uncertain, but it is better to err on the side of caution." Artimes answered.

"Agreed." Lily replied helping her friend to stand.

* * *

Upon arriving at the hospital, Lily ran inside to acquire a wheelchair, leaving her best mate outside. After spending almost five minutes explaining the situation, she rolled the wheelchair outside. Her eyes widened as she saw her best friend trying to fight off two masked men. They had the red head half in and half out of the side of a dark grey van.

"Artz!" The brunette yelled running forward, wheelchair forgotten.

Artimes was pulled completely into the vehicle by the two men and the door slammed shut. The van sped away and Lily gave chase, but eventually stopped to hold her side as she tried to catch her breath.

They were in major trouble and she couldn't call Greg because he still wasn't back yet. Going to the police, without the assistance of the detective inspector to speed up the process, would just lead nowhere and her flat mate was running out of time. Lily didn't know what to do. Who could possibly help her best mate and had more brains than the whole of New Scotland Yard?

The brunette's jaw tightened as an idea crossed her mind. Artimes was going to kill her for what she was about to do, but she simply had no other option at her disposal. It was the only way to save her best friend. She raced back to the hospital parking lot and mounted her flat mate's motorbike. Lily was not allowed to drive the crimson beauty after what she did to her last six vehicles, but desperate times called for desperate measures. She only hoped that he was still in his flat and would remember Artimes.

* * *

Artimes sat in a somewhat darkened room, hands tied behind her back. She was analyzing her current environment and filing away all the information she was picking up from the not so quiet guards. She knew from the décor and layout of the building that she was in some type of industrial warehouse. She also learned that the guards had a two hour rotation for checking on their prisoners.

She had deduced that the reason why she was kidnapped was because she was close to giving birth. The newborns were being shipped to a remote province in China where the girls were trained as love slaves and the boys were trained as soldiers. She didn't know what would happen to the mothers, but she wagered that it wasn't pleasant. It was all the more incentive she needed to escape.

What irked her the most was the idiocy of these fools. Did they honestly believe that a fully pregnant woman couldn't escape their little hideout? She hissed slightly when the rope binding her hands rubbed her wrists raw as she slowly loosened them. After another minute, her hands were freed from the ropes.

She stood up slowly so she wouldn't attract too much attention. She then pulled out a customized Swiss army knife from where she had it clipped in between her breasts. She always made certain to be prepared for any situation and her foresight was paying off. She smirked as she walked quietly over to the large air vent and began unscrewing it from the wall. The vent covering popped off and she stilled, listening to the guards, who were down the hall and playing what she assumed to be a card game of some sort.

Their annoying banter continued without pause and she suppressed the urge to sigh at their stupidity. She set aside the vent covering and examined the now open ventilation shaft before her. She would have to slide on her back to avoid any injury to her unborn son, but it was doable. She clipped the knife back into its proper place and hoisted herself into the shaft, pausing every few seconds to make certain she had not been discovered.

She slid along the metal slowly, every movement calculated and executed perfectly to avoid detection. Sage had stilled his movements inside of her when she had first entered the shaft, almost like he understood the necessity for stealth. Her child was a smart one, but that wasn't surprising given who his parents were. She kept her senses focused, searching for any changes in either sound or scent. Either of these would provide the necessary information of a possible escape route.

After roughly ten minutes, she picked up on a change in the air flow. It was less stuffy and carried the smell of the rain and car exhaust. She turned down the corresponding shaft and smirked as she discovered an external vent, letting out onto a street. She then frowned at its composition. The vent was rusty and could be easily kicked out, but that would cause a lot of noise and possibly alert her former captors of her escape.

She saw a guard approaching from the left side and she winced when a jolt of pain rippled through her lower body. Given her current state, she would simply have to risk it. She didn't have enough time to find another exit or come up with a quieter way of removing the grate. She repositioned herself with her legs towards the external vent and she waited for the guard to come into range. If she could get her timing and trajectory right than she could take out two birds with one stone or in this case, grate. It was a bit overkill in maneuvers but she would think about that later. She kicked the grate outwards and towards the surprised guard, hitting him squarely in the head and rendering him unconscious.

Artimes slid out of the shaft and landed gracefully on the balls of her feet. She checked her immediate surroundings to see if an alarm had been raised and noticed the distinct lack of a response to the noise. She fought down the urge to roll her eyes and quickly sifted through the guard's pockets. She located a .38 caliber pistol and his smart phone.

She checked her surroundings once more before darting across the road and into a nearby alleyway. She checked the area around the warehouse with her eyes and sported an 'Are you serious?' look at the empty street. These guys were supposed to be professionals and yet seemed to lack any proper training whatsoever. She took off into the alleyway. She had maybe twenty minutes before the guard awoke or was found by another and she intended to be several miles away by that time.

It didn't take her long to realize her location and after almost fifteen minutes at a fast jog, she was roughly three and half miles from her former cell. The pain in her stomach was increasing and she didn't know what it meant. Was she having a miscarriage this late into the pregnancy? Was she going into premature labor? Was her baby in danger?

She went over her options quickly. One: She could continue running on her own and run the risk of being recaptured or worse, something happening to Sage. Two: Since Greg was still out of town, she would have to rely on the other officers of Scotland Yard to her assist and their response time was frightfully appalling. Three: She could call Lily and in doing so, put her flat mate in grave danger, but have the support she needed in case something was wrong with her son. The fourth idea she wasn't even about to entertain because she had no desire to open that particular can of worms with the consultant detective just yet; too much drama to be a viable solution.

Her only option was Lily. She looked down at the phone in her right hand, the pistol in her left. Another jolt of pain made her suck in a deep, shuddering breath. She needed Lily. She couldn't handle this without her and the brunette's knowledge about pregnancies and the birthing process was far more extensive than her own, given the amount of time Lily had put in to her research.

Artimes bypassed the pattern lock on the phone with ease and huffed at its simplicity. Couldn't even have a slight challenge to distract her, could she? She dialed the number of her flat mate's mobile while keeping an eye and ear on her surroundings. She was grateful for her ability to multitask at that moment.

* * *

Lady A: There you have it! Chapter 7: The Great Escape is complete! So what did you think of the red head's escape huh? Things are far from over. In fact, they are about to become very interesting. So be on the lookout for Chapter 8: Laboring Hearts! No, she does not give birth in the next chapter. *sticks her tongue out before giggling like a mad woman*


	8. Chapter 8: Laboring Hearts

Lady A: Hey everyone! Welcome back to Two Minds, One Heart! This chapter is dedicated to a dear friend, who for the most part is completely clueless about the show this is based in, but who is still reading it and finding it a thrill to read. That's right this chapter is for my beloved Lady Silver! Also a special shout out for the 26 followers of this story! You guys are great and I love you so much. So here is Chapter 8 of Two Minds, One Heart. Enjoy!

Sherlock: Do I finally find her?

Lady A: In a manner of speaking.

Sherlock: *eyes narrow and gives her a pointed stare*

Lady A: *chuckles nervously* You'll see, Lock. Honest.

* * *

Chapter Eight: Laboring Hearts

* * *

Sherlock glanced down at his phone, checking the time, before stuffing it into his pocket. He crossed the living room and put on his coat and scarf. John had just called to inform the consultant detective that Mary was going into labor. He needed to get down to Bart's before his best mate worried himself into an early grave, which was highly possible given how the army doctor had freaked out when he had learned of the pregnancy.

Sherlock, himself, had no idea about how to be a father so it was indeed fortunate that he wasn't one or going to be one. What did he know about babies or how to take care of them? He glanced back at the motorbike helmet on his desk. Besides he only wanted one person to be the mother of his children. He looked over at his mental Artimes, who was standing by the desk. The red head was the only one who was worthy of that honor.

'You're about to have company and I suggest you listen to her.' The red head informed giving him a pointed look before vanishing.

He frowned deeply in confusion before he heard the sound of voices coming from below and quickly followed by the sounds of a pair of feet racing up the stairs. A woman with brunette hair and green eyes rushed into the room, nearly bowling him over and forcing him to retreat a few steps back into the room.

"I need your help." She stated quickly.

Her breathing was rapid and her cheeks were flushed. She had clearly done some running recently. The vein in her neck was pulsing almost as rapidly as her breathing, denoting either a lot of physical activity or a steady dose of fear. The wild and almost desperate look in her eyes supported the latter conclusion. He honestly didn't have time for this.

"I am currently unavailable, so if you could see yourself out." He answered moving towards the door.

'Listen to her, Sherlock. This is important.' His mental Artimes urged.

What was so important that it could keep him from his friends who needed him? The brunette growled in frustration then dashed across the room and picked up the black motorbike helmet. Sherlock's eyes became murderous the moment the woman touched it.

"_She_ _needs your help_." The woman clarified holding up the helmet slightly.

He frowned as he looked from the helmet to the woman and back again.

'You must forgive her. She can be overly dramatic at times and her views on me are extremely biased.' His mental Artimes stated smirking.

Could this be Artimes's flat mate?

"Lily?" He asked seeking confirmation of his theory.

The brunette gave him a relieved smile and lowered the helmet.

"She told you about me. Good, because we need your help." She answered.

"What happened?" He asked his attention completely centered on the red head's flat mate.

"She's been kidnapped. They took her from right in front of the hospital." Lily answered in a rush.

She was in danger. Hospital? His mind began to race through all the possibilities of why she would be at a hospital and his own heart twisted them into a much darker variety.

"Is she ill? Injured?" He asked taking a step forward his worry shining clear in his eyes.

'Calm down.' His mental Artimes ordered.

He tried to relax, to ease the tension building up inside of him, but his Artimes was in danger.

"No, she's not sick and she wasn't hurt. She's um…." Lily started but stopped, having seemingly to have lost her voice or her nerve.

The silence hung between them and stretched on for over a minute until it grated on his last frayed nerve.

"Well?" He snapped.

"She's…um…well she's…oh forget it. She's pregnant!" The brunette answered practically yelling the last statement.

Sherlock felt as if he had been slapped then punched in the stomach repeatedly. She was pregnant, meaning that she had found another. She had moved on. Did that night mean nothing to her? It had changed something deep within himself and now he learned that it meant nothing to the woman who caused that change to occur. Pain lanced through his heart but his face remained passive.

His mental Artimes tried to persuade him that he was jumping to conclusions and that he needed to calm down and think rationally. He shoved her into the deepest part of his Mind Palace and locked her away, unable to hear her words. His exterior cooled as his eyes hardened.

"Have you informed the father? He asked his tone professional and cold.

Lily and Artimes were just clients now; nothing more, nothing less.

"I just did." She answered giving him a nervous smile.

What did she mean she just did? Did she inform the red head's lover before entering Baker Street? If so, where was he and why wasn't he assisting the brunette?

"Let me break it down for you. Artimes is considered full term and her due date is set for two and half weeks from now. Given that there have been no complications during her pregnancy, back track to the date of possible conception and do a deduction." Lily stated a challenge in her eyes.

He inwardly rolled his eyes as his mind performed the calculations effortlessly. Based on all the information provided, the conception date would be within two to six days of John's wedding. His eyes widened slightly as he began to entertain the notion of what the brunette was suggesting.

He knew for a fact that Artimes was a virgin when they met that night and the conception happened a few days after that night. It was possible that she could have taken another lover after him, like he had with Janine though that was strictly for a case. He let his mental Artimes back out and looked her over briefly. Was it possible…was it really possible for _him_ to be the father. His mental Artimes smiled slightly.

He looked over at Lily seeking confirmation on his outlandish theory and she nodded her head to his unspoken question. His mind came to a complete stand still as his face went blank in shock. Artimes was in danger and was pregnant with _his_ _child_. Then the information really sank in and his mind almost completely shut down.

_Sherlock Holmes was going to be a father_.

* * *

Lily watched on as the detective sorted through the information he was given. Funny, how his mind worked kinda like Artimes's. You could actually see him thinking in his eyes. She nodded when he looked at her, the question very clear. Then his face went blank and whatever coloring he had before hand drained away. Uh oh, was the idea of being a father too much for him? Did she break him?

Bad, this was bad, this was very bad. She needed him to find her flat mate before the stress forced her into premature labor or worse, those thugs do something horrible to her. She went and broke Sherlock Holmes, the world's only consulting detective. Artimes was so going to kill her for this. Her mobile started ringing and the detective made no inclination of life, so she withdrew her phone and glanced down at it. She didn't recognize the number, but it might be important so she answered it.

"Hello?" She asked hesitantly.

"Lily?" Artimes responded.

Relief flooded her system at hearing her friend's voice.

"Oh my God! Artz, are you alright?" Lily asked completely ignoring the only other occupant of the room.

"Yes, I managed to escape." The red head answered and from her tone she could that her friend was smirking.

A smile lit up her face. That was her best mate, doing the impossible as always. Sherlock broke through his state of shock, crossed the room, and grabbed the phone from the brunette.

* * *

"Artimes, where are you?" Sherlock asked.

The red head was surprised to hear his voice and was confused when her body seemed to calm at the sound of his deep baritone.

"Why are you with Lily?" She asked slightly annoyed.

"She came to me for help. Why didn't you tell me?" He demanded.

She guessed Lily hadn't gotten to that part yet. She growled inwardly. This was the kind of situation she was hoping to avoid, but there was no changing it now.

"I promised you one night, Sherlock, not a lifetime." She answered her voice soft and a little sad.

"We need to modify our original agreement, but first, tell me where you are?" He replied.

"No, my word is my bond and I will not break it." She responded curtly.

She grit her teeth slightly as the pain in her lower body intensified.

"You are a woman of honor, of integrity. I understand and respect that, but I want more. I've always wanted more and I know you do too." Sherlock informed his tone ringing with sincerity.

Her heart skipped a beat. He wanted more? She had never dared to hope for such an opportunity yet here he was providing the one thing she craved…him. Her mind weakly rebelled saying that she had to keep her word, but her heart was screaming to take what he was offering. She wanted the chance to get to know him, to be a part of his life. Just this once, she would go back on her word…for him and only for him because he was worth it.

"Sherlock, I…Oh." She started but stopped as a hot fluid erupted from her nether regions and splashed on the ground.

Her breathing sped up and her eyes grew wide with shock. No, not now…she wasn't due for another two weeks!

"Artimes…Artimes!" Sherlock yelled.

"My water just broke." She whispered her voice small and quiet.

"Tell me where you are." He demanded again.

She told him and he gave her directions to a small warehouse nearby. He told her to ask for a woman named Sarah, a member of his homeless network.

"Go there and you'll be safe. I'm coming to get you." Sherlock reassured as she nodded numbly, "Now go!"

Artimes pushed off the wall and began her way to the warehouse, clutching her swollen stomach and trying to remain calm and focused.

* * *

Lady A: There you have it. Chapter 8: Laboring Hearts is complete! *snickers* Kind of crazy, huh? *giggles profusely* Be on the lookout for Chapter 9: Master Sage! Should be fun. *grins evilly* Though there is a chance that I might have to split the chapters, but hopefully not.


	9. Chapter 9: Master Sage

Lady A: Hello everyone and welcome back to Two Minds, One Heart! This chapter has been split in two because of the ridiculous length. Also this chapter is dedicated to **opalvampire**, who convinced me to post this sooner rather than later. Apologies for the cliff hangers, I know how much you want to kill me for them.

Sherlock: Do I find her now? *gives Lady A a pointed glare*

Lady A: *sighs heavily* Yes, Sherlock. You will be reunited with Artimes. Are you happy now?

Sherlock: Why would I be happy about this rubbish?

Lady A: *raises an eyebrow* Just for that comment, I will be leaving this chapter with a cliff hanger.

Readers: *glares venom soaked daggers at the detective*

Sherlock: *ignores them* Well?

Lady A: Well what?

Sherlock: Are you going to continue on to the chapter or not?

Lady A: You can't admit it, can you? You like this story and want to read it as much as the readers do!

Sherlock: Stop talking aloud, you're lowering the IQ of the entire street.

Lady A: *huffs and crosses her arms* You're such a jerk.

Sherlock: A perfectly sound analysis, but as you are incapable of starting the chapter on your own, I will do so for you. Readers, read the chapter now.

Lady A: Do not make me get Mummy.

Sherlock: *glares at her*

* * *

Chapter Nine: Master Sage

* * *

Sherlock handed the phone back to Lily and grabbed both the helmet and the keys from her.

"Go to St. Bart's Hospital and find Doctor John Watson. I'll bring Artimes and the baby there. You might want to warn him. He'll need time to adjust to the fact that both he and I will be becoming fathers on the same day." Sherlock ordered heading out of the flat.

Lily raced after the consulting detective and grabbed his left arm, forcing him to stop and face her.

"Don't be angry with her. She was going tell you after Sage was born. She had wanted to tell you the moment she found out, because she believed you had the right to be in your son's life. Things became pretty hectic in your life and we decided that it was better to wait until everything was sorted. So please, please…don't be mad." The brunette informed her eyes pleading.

He admired Lily for her loyalty to Artimes. Moreover, he was going to have a son and his Artimes had wanted to protect both his son and himself by staying away. In regards to Magnussen, his exile, his return, and Moriarty, it had been the wisest and most logical course of action.

"I'm not angry, Lily. I've been looking for her for months. This is simply another challenge I must rise to conquer, but know this; once she is with me, I'm never letting her or my son go ever again. I made the mistake of agreeing to one night and that is something I will soon rectify, but you know Artimes very well and she will no doubt have certain objections. If I am to succeed then I will need your help." Sherlock replied covering her hand with his.

The brunette smiled softly, a knowing look in her eyes.

"I was hoping you'd say that. Leave everything to me. Now go and save our family." She stated.

The detective nodded and smirked as he left. The brunette was a rather interesting woman. He could see why Artimes liked her so much.

* * *

Artimes entered a small warehouse, her vision beginning to blur. She was exhausted and the pain lancing through her system was excruciating. She raised the gun, which was now in her right hand, when a woman with dirty blond hair and green eyes approached her.

"My name is Sarah, Miss. Sherlock sent me." The blond stated raising her hands slightly in a non-threatening manner.

"Prove it." Artimes countered her tone breathless as she pulled the hammer back with her thumb.

The red head could take no chances with her son's life on the line.

"The voice of an angel and the soul of a dancer." Sarah replied.

Artimes lowered the gun and leaned heavily on the wall behind her. She had only spoken those words once and they had been to Sherlock on the night that changed everything in her life. Sarah walked forward and helped the red head further inside, getting her situated on an extremely worn out mattress. Artimes's mind slipped in and out of memories as the time flew by, but as the pain became worse, her mind filled with the only images she had of her mother.

She remembered her mother's crimson red hair and how it had shined like liquid fire in the light. Her royal blue eyes were filled to the brim with love and wonder. Her smile had been radiant and so full of warmth, but as the pain lanced through Artimes's body again, she remembered how her mother's eyes began to darken, the light fading from her eyes. The happiness that once filled them dulled into nothingness as they slipped close, never again to reopen.

She remembered how her elder brother, Trinity, who was only seven years old at the time, had lifted her from her mother's now cold grasp. She remembered how she screamed and cried, her brother trying to soothe her. She remembered his promise to protect her always and the vow he made that day. He vowed that no one would harm those they held most dear. It was a promise he had kept for her entire life.

Right now, she was alone. Her brother was in Northern Ireland on a mission, Greg was still out of town, Lily was at Baker Street, and Sherlock was God knows where. She was alone with a woman she didn't know, in horrific pain, about to give birth to her first born son, and for the first time in her life, Artimes was truly terrified.

Her ears picked up the sounds of approaching footfalls; height approximately six feet, long stride, male, clear purpose, high probability of being a threat. She raised the gun still clutched in her right hand and the moment the blurred image of the man came into her sight, she fired. When no sounds of pain or a body impacting the floor, she prepared to fire again, but stopped when she heard her name.

"Artimes." Sherlock said.

Relief and joy flooded her system, washing away her previous terror and replacing it with an uncanny calmness.

"Sherlock." She whispered her right hand lowering the gun as he walked forward and knelt by her side.

Her eyes widened as the scent of copper reached her nose.

"Sherlock, did I hurt you?" She asked as he lifted her into a sitting position and wrapped his overcoat around her.

"Just a graze." He answered resting her back against his chest, his arms tucked under breasts.

"I'm sorry." She said quietly, becoming slightly drowsy from the warmth he had enveloped her in.

"You need to stay awake, Miss." Sarah instructed causing Artimes's mind to snap back to reality.

Pain pulsed throughout her body and she cried out, the detective holding in her place as she rode out the wave of pain.

"How long?" Sherlock demanded.

"She's almost fully dilated, Mr. Holmes. Just a few more minutes before she can start pushing." The blond answered.

"Soon, Artimes." Sherlock whispered into her right ear.

"I wanted to tell you." Artimes began her breathing heavy.

"I know. Lily told me. What are we going to name our son?" He interjected.

The red head smiled softly.

"Sage Sherlock Holmes." She answered.

The detective's deep baritone chuckle rumbled through her chest, relaxing some of the tension from her body.

"I thought you would approve." She began only to pause for a moment as she bore through another wave of pain, "Did you mean what you said…about modifying our original agreement?"

"Yes, I've been searching for you for a while now." He answered.

"Did you miss me?" She asked unable to keep her emotions in check as tears began to form in her eyes.

"You were always with me." He answered.

The tears flowed down her face and she didn't bother to stop them.

"I want to try, Sherlock. I want to be a part of your life." She admitted.

He kissed the right side of her head, a gesture that made her heart swell with hope.

"It's time." Sarah informed.

* * *

Lady A: Yes, that is the end of the chapter. Please leave a review on how much you want to kill me for kinda dragging this out but hey, I'm working on two other Sherlock fics, a novel, and thinking of starting a fourth Sherlock fic as well. Busy, busy, busy. Have no fear, Master Sage will soon appear and things will get complicated from here. Oh, that rhymed.


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